Paleontologist

An anti-homophobia poem written in response to a homophobic YouTube video

As far back as I can remember

I wanted to be a

Paleontologist

Someone who looks at the old, decayed

Bones of creatures that never asked for

Love.

I wanted to be someone who dug through

Inches, feet, yards, miles of dirt

For a charred fragment of bone

that was so far away from

Home that the only

Contact it could make with its family

Was through the wires of the

Telephone

I wanted to be someone

Important.

Then that phase passed.

 

Later on, I wanted to be a writer,

Because there’s something about

Creation that’s so spontaneous

That it can lift souls higher

Make hearts lighter

If you do it right.

I wanted to write an expansion of

Cliché in such a grandiose way

That could make everything

Seem

Just right for some night when

That rush of creativity spills through

My fingertips

Like water dripping from the stalactites of

A cognitive cave of irrelevance

I just wanted to write.

 

Well, then that phase passed

And I wanted to be a doctor

Because there was something about

The cure that kept me up at night

Wondering how innocent and pure

That baby’s face is as his mother is

Carted down the hall on a gurney,

Who barely lived to see thirty years

On Earth

Whose constant fear of

“How will they survive”

sat on the first tear she cried

When her doctor diagnosed her.

That woman who had so much time ahead of her

But whose debilitating cancer always kept her from

Home. 

So much so that “home” became an

I.V. bag and a hospital bed. 

So much so that

“Home” went from fireplaces and kittens

To MRI machines and seven minutes

To live,

So much so that “home” became a myth.

 

And there are a lot of myths

Today.

There are myths today so farfetched and

Filled with hate, like

“It’s a choice, the one with whom you

fornicate” and

“It’s not that you’re a bad person, it’s that you’re

a disgrace, but I’m not trying to discriminate against

you.”

And they say these things with such distaste that they

Forget those with whom they’re supposed to relate

And love.

 

But now, love has become something

Blurred

Something obscured by religious fanatics and

Old, dusty books

Something regulated by governments and

Followed blindly by people at the risk of being

Burned, something

We’re afraid of.

Love.

The most toxic word

In the English language.

The word that makes and breaks

Empires, the word that lights

Fires in the hearts of men and women

In the most remote places,

The word that connects hearts

Instead of faces,

That fills a thousand vases

On the altars of every church

That allows people to

Love someone for who they

Are, and as each heart races they

Find the real meaning of 

Love.

 

Because here’s the thing.

“There is no love without hate”

Now that’s one of the few things

You can appreciate,

Your right to hate

Please.

Don’t feed me that line.

Because we both know that,

When you’re older,

You’re just gonna end up

Crying in the corner

Like the spoiled little

Brat you’ve always been,

Like that crushing boulder of 

Hate

Was never lifted off your

Shoulder

And why should it?

 

So let it fall.

Let yourself give in to

The pressure

Of defeat,

Like that dinosaur

That only wanted

Something to eat

But instead was

Cheated out of every

Chance it had to live.

Feel it burning

Deep inside you

All that hate

Yearning to get out

Let it consume you.

 

Maybe someday,

Someone will dig up your

Bones. 

Maybe someday, someone will

Remember you.  And

Maybe someday

They will label you.

By your species.