I wish he’d come back, this savior of yours
This perfect being you’ve been telling me about since I can remember
Who slept and ate with the criminals and outcasts you despise.
I wish I could summon him as easily as goblins
This being of light and omnipotence
The one whose love outshines all but
whose judgement we’re meant to fear
(you don’t, do you?)
I wish he’d return and tell us whether he likes what he sees
And I wonder whether those who hide behind his name
will hide from his gaze.
I hope you don’t.
I want to see your faces when he says,
“You’ve forgotten everything I taught you.”
I am not a Christian, but everything I’ve ever learned about the man named Jesus tells me he would weep bitter tears if he knew what horrors humans wreak in his name. The hypocrisy of the people I see calling others “hateful” for calling out their hate, calling others “intolerant” because they won’t tolerate words and actions that hurt people who are already hurting…I want the power to put these people in a room with the man they uphold as their guiding star and I want to see them quiver and sob before him when he looks them in the eye and says “What the ACTUAL fuck.”
So I wrote a poem. Thanks for reading. Making art is one way we get through this alive.
PS: Bonus points if the line about goblins…well, you know.