;
Our Lord Jesus in Drag
This guy can walk on anything,
even six-inch stilettos.
His purse, a sequined fish,
he unzips to finger a two-drachma coin,
flings it at the sour faces
of the unbelieving bouncers.
He doesn’t need Spanx, perfect
abs, perfect butt, perfect legs stretch
from the glittering hem
of his little black dress
stitched with stars.
He struts the floor to the backroom
where his 12 gussied-up friends
fondle him in welcome. They gab
while they sample the grub, get
a little drunk, tongues down throats
that taste like red wine.
Later, they’ll hit the town,
paint it rainbow, raise the dead, raise
hell, before Jesus goes home, strips,
scrubs make-up from his perfect face.
In the morning, it’ll be a dove grey
suit, cufflinks, a power tie.
All business, he’ll forgive
a hundred stinging slights,
his daily sponge of vinegar.
Dayna Patterson is the newest blogger at Doves & Serpents. She is also on the editorial staff of Exponent II. Her poems have appeared in Dark Lady Poetry, Persona, Words Work, Exponent II, Segullah, Borderline, and BlazeVOX, and she has poems forthcoming in Front Porch Review and Sunstone. Her chapbooks, Loose Threads and Mothering, are available from Flutter Press. Her poem “Letters to My Polygamist Ancestors” received a Brodie Award for Best Poem 2011.
This post is in honor of all the brave LDS who marched in the recent gay pride parade. Thank you for your courage to love, to see the face of God in every individual.
Er, the gay pride parade in SLC, that is.
Excellent detail. I suppose it goes with the scripture in Isaiah too, where it says (in a nutshell) that He’s not beautiful in a way we’d desire him.
That hadn’t occurred to me, Angela. That’s a really good point.
This was really beautiful….and totally made me all teary. Thank you for sharing this!
Great job! Keep up the good work Dayna. I thought you’d enjoy this poem (not by me) that also plays with the Christ metaphor. I read it just this week. It’s called “Out in the Open” by Tomas Transtromer (Nobel Prize). The last section of the poem:
III
The sun is scorching. The plane comes in low,
throwing a shadow in the shape of a giant cross, rushing over
the ground.
A man crouches over something in the field.
The shadow reaches him.
For a split-second he is in the middle of the cross.
I have seen the cross that hangs from cool church arches.
Sometimes it seems like a snapshot
of frenzy.
Great poem. Memorable–like yours! Great job. Best wishes,
Jonah
“A snapshot / of frenzy” — that’s beautiful. Thanks for the quotation, Jonah. I’m not familiar with Transtromer’s work. Adding him to my goodreads “to read” pile now.
Ooo, I see that one of his books was translated by May Swenson. Does this poem come from that collection? I think it is called Windows and Stones…
I have a book coming out called Jesus in Drag. Great poem!
http://www.indiegogo.com/timothykurek
Timothy, your book sounds awesome. What an interesting idea, going undercover, as it were. It reminds me of John Howard Griffin’s book Black Like Me. I’m sure you discovered and grew a lot from your experience. I admire your courage.