Come walk the streets with me

(to the 6 billion without AIDS)


If I were the Messiah,

I would walk the streets

Sandled, bearded, thin as they

Who hiding in the dark spaces,

Dispirited and deserted

Await the gathering light.

I would find these,

The last of this world

And with my warm touch

I would offer them immunity

From the harsh glare of the masses.


I would not sit in my white house

With one hand waving

My clitoral smelling finger,

The other hand

Wiping, white knuckled

My plastic wrapped toilet seat.


I understand the apprehension.

Yahweh still speaks to us.

Hide your children, your first born!

Look above!

The sky is black with locusts, flies and frogs.

The rumors persist;

Who now is poisoning our wells?

The lepers are marching on the town.

Our neighbors are kissing Lucifer’s white buns.

Yes. Fear, death, retribution —

They plague us,

But the rats know the truth.


So now we lock our beroom doors and condemn.

Tiptoing around in our smoking jackets

We kneel down and scour the carpet

In search of a stone to cast.

But we find no stone,

Only our own dirt and the message that

“We are all guilty.”

Science cannot cure us of this.

It cannot come to our aid.

Forgiveness is the only serum,

Love the only needle.


Come walk the streets with me.

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