Before I knock on her door,
the woman must have been reading
the Gospel of Matthew, the part where Jesus
enters Jerusalem in triumph,
so when she opens her door and I ask
if she knows who she’ll be voting for,
she gives me a big smile, offers me
a glass of cold water, and says, calmly,
Oh, I’ll be voting for Jesus.
He’s not the candidate I had in mind
so I’m tempted to say something like,
Oh, will Jesus help us solve inflation,
but luckily I think better of it, careful
not to disclose our invasion from the Bay.
 
The weight of my brochures doesn’t get
any lighter as I walk from door-to-door,
dropping them off when people aren’t home
or won’t answer their doors,
their Ring bells asking me to leave a message
and reminding me that Jesus loves me.