A poem of rage and love

In jonestown, they’d think me mad,

I would do my thing, and serve a woman

A noble heart, in love,  while they,

A unison, down swallow poison, sure

There were lezzos there too. Not content

With their lot, they down on me, destroy

My shining reputation, among themselves,

Like creatures beneath redemption.

Sexist and homophobic tropes, they

Set as if traps, I, cannot be found, no

Trap can overcome me, except that

For which I’m bound. They, call me

Insane, laughing circular, pass round

Lies one to the other. To them, that’s

Life, in number, they think they’ll find

Strength. In number they crawl over

Mother-earth,

Not even there, they gather round

Diabolical, desperate, too many lies

To believe they’re actually real, again

They fail, and soon poison will overtake

Them, soon dead and forgotten, a lie.

But they won’t forget me, my heart

Of earth, death-defying acrobat, proclaim

Me insane, then, pretend away that

The woman I love is like youse. My

Spirit knows her without speaking,

So lies are pointless there. My heart is my spirit, I found it, and only

She knows it, as a door thru death,

A staircase which opens, white marble,

Opens like a hand placed within, and

Expanded: on every branch; love

Reaching