On Seeing Facebook Recommend I Tag the Face of Christ


I’m scrolling

pictures on my home page,

when there He is: white,

robed, and framed, hanging

background to a casserole

scene at Aunt Dara’s.

The site wraps his face in a thin box, as it does with cousins at the table,

suggests the face be “tagged,”

logged for future reference,

catalogued as a friend, an acquaintance, et cetera


et cetera.  Flash bounces off glass, obscuring

his chin in light.  You can’t see if He’s smiling.


Scott, Wes, Liz, and Hilary (the cousins) sit

ready at the tablecloth, collared shirts and floral print

dresses.  The meal hasn’t started.  Stormy

mashed potatoes, brown gravy, brown rolls, lentil soup, wine,

macaroni, flowers, and  iPhones buzz

with promise beside bare hands.


Above this post are razors

advertised against a lathered jaw.


Below, a picture of Obama,

his mouth open at a microphone.


Jesus, poor guy, can’t compete in the pileup,

in the suffocating then now there here them us you.


  1. margaret philbrick
    Oct 9, 2015

    I LOVE this. Thanks so much for your reflection on Jesus jammed in between culture and our overextended “stormy mashed potatoe” lives. excellent writing.

  2. Michael Grubb
    Oct 27, 2015

    Thanks for your attention to the poem, Margaret! Glad that it connected with you.

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *