Homophobia
Psalm 11 and Genesis 1
I’m like a bird that hopes he might be free
From harm among the hills. He spreads his wings
And hops from branch to branch. Each budding tree
Protects the happy bird whose true heart sings
Through throat and beak. But what the cock does not
Intuit is that men suspicious in
Intent are near him stocking for a shot
To send those notes and heart to death. This sin
To kill him privily, as old as Psalms,
Will make his loss a form of incense sent
To God. The witness angels lift their palms
To heaven giving men their pure assent.
The swelling of their maleness comes from words
That make them masters of the flitting birds.