Some of your best friends are,
I will grant you that
But need you make a scar
And act the politicrat?
Or might it be you who needs convincing
To reach out your hand and lower fencing?
I wasn’t born
until yesterday.
You say you don’t condemn me
Yet neither do you condone
As if I seek your nobility
Asking that I might atone.
Could it be your benison and graces
Are more needed in faraway places?
I didn’t stand tall
until yesterday.
In weakness you fall on The Word,
God did not make Adam and Steve
You wield it as your cogent sword
Apprehensions needing reprieve.
Is your place above secured down here
Through your daggers, stones, and fretful fear?
I was hell bound
until yesterday.
So you abide me if I won’t flaunt
Sashaying my hips, flipping my wrists,
Giving you bullets to tease and daunt
Me and my friends, we are catalysts.
Might we jab your ribs and act so queer
If you didn’t thwart that which we hold dear?
I was quiet
until yesterday.
Into our talk you bring your child
Admonish me not to recruit
Heed me now, I will stand defiled,
And slain before I’d steal your fruit.
Is your true concern for your little one,
Or for you might this sweet babe be a gun?
I did not fight
until yesterday.
That haughtiness in your eyes
When proclaiming AIDS our just desert
Only makes me realize
This is your hurt seeking to subvert.
Might you be blind to the straight PWAs,
Or do you prefer your orientation haze?
I believed
until yesterday.
You and I, we agree to disagree
On matters in my heart and on my sleeve.
Our words seem damned to continue to flee
What more can I do to make you believe?
My lot is Job’s lot, to walk with you
Facing your hate I try to subdue.
Maybe I was born
yesterday.
© 2003 Jason C. Jones