Jesus Killed the Kennedy's

When Jesus Christ killed the Kennedy’s,
He sat both on rooftops and window ledges to get the shot just right,
And the world turned just a bit slower,
As a shot rang out to bounce across decades,
To fell a plane and scatter grey matter in trace amounts across an old parade car,
The cross now on heads as they jolt pass at less than holy speeds,
Waiting for the thunder to consume a life,
To put them in the ground.

When Christ first selected a weapon that day,
It was without dread or lackluster to duty,
Perhaps he felt for Cuba or was far too similar to junior,
He waited for the moment to strike,
To take them from their thrones.

When Jesus killed the Kennedy’s,
It’s confirmed that he was not out of town enjoying the seasons,
But that he harbored and meditated with malign contempt,
To reduce to none a competitive trinity,
One that allied with free market instead of free will,
Not that their parity was adverse,
But there is no reasoning with religion some days.

The day that Jesus killed the Kennedy’s,
The Pope said somebody needs to take that boy out,
He meant Jesus,
I’m assuming he went too far my lord,
This question was answered with a nod,
Nobody moved because they all knew,
There is no reasoning with religion some days.

The day Jesus stalked the streets for his hiding spot,
The day the Vatican sat on their hands,
The day the Kennedy’s groomed and bathed and practiced their wave,
The day America waited for a moment they could all share together
The day we waited for something big to change our lives
The day the son of a myth discharged a weapon in public and then ran-ran-ran.

The plane went down and everyone said awwwwww,
All this metal and shattered family dreams,
And Jacqueline wept for the attonment of the inevitable,
And Jesus forgave himself…