Christopher Michael, gay, gay poetry

Tiny Tears for Baby Jesus

Tiny Tears for Baby Jesus

I’m almost Christian in a convoluted sense of the word
but I don’t believe in him, not as my personal shopper
or absolvent,
not that there weren’t lots of deities, in every bygone
civilization, in every mythology, mortal or otherwise:
Osiris returned by his sister/wife Isis; Odin returned
from death stronger than before
Ganesha whose head was loped by Shiva
but returned as elephant man, or the complexities of
Dionysus born anew

all dead resurrected, deified, worshipped
I can almost buy that, as easily as I might believe
the man in the moon is a lady
not up for suspended disbelief
a man gone savior, gone god
gonna wash away my sings in this blood
the sects and denominations confound
who to believe, where do I turn?
like shooting phish in a barrel, hoping one will suit
my fancy du jour
but I don’t believe in him

tiny tears, lacrimosa dies illa
mournful be that day
qua resurget ex favilla
on which from ashes shall arise
so much blood has been shed, so much hate
continues to linger in his name
would he to return and not weep?
not cry with his angels at what is done in his name?
I think yes, sadly, yes

why would I say, then, that I’m almost Christian
my world has been homogenized with it, holidays
are universal, attempting to irradiate every
anything not in Christ’s name regardless of
what I might believe, as taught in my youth
it has been asked, and not herein discussed
was Jesus gay? I don’t think there’s any answer
none that would matter


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