A bad tree is as bad fruit does;

despite the winding tactictalk,

a lamb is not a lion, never was,

and a dove is not a hawk,

but the wolf may be the asp

when both pretend to grasp

the essence of the word “anoint.”

All of this is far beside the point,

yet still I feel compelled to say,

the point made weaker by its making,

how sainted speakers breathlessly betray

the blessed virtue they are faking.

How do you read the story of god’s son

and somehow find

the ammunition there to point a gun

or throw a stone at love of any kind?

You who preach love of family, yet hate

the family that is not fair of skin,

who stop the sunbrown sojourner at the gate

but do not wash his feet, or bring him in;

you who manufacture moneywar

then leave the soldiers sleeping in the streets;

you who glut the wealthy, starve the poor;

you who spend the night in ghostly sheets,

a meekness masking well thy earthly good,

thy quiet pride and purity protect,

who wear a mask, as all Good Christians should,

themselves and all their neighbors to infect;

to those who spit the venom of deceit,

yet slither into choir lines to sing;

to those who every righteous cause defeat,

yet think yourselves the Righteous wing;

because I see you, hear what I am saying –

cease at once thy public praeying.

Swaddled though you are in Satan’s spell,

your heart of hearts must know it to be true –

christ would sooner burn alive in Hell

than stand in solidarity with You.