They tell me poetry brings out your pain.

Like zoloft brings out your craziness?
Like alcohol brings out anxiety,
Like family gatherings bring out dysfunction?

I can see in my own poetry
my anger showing through
it's true, I am angry
angry at Bush and his administration who have hurt so many people,
angry at the right wing who say gays can't get married
but hurt little boys in the pews of churches,
in front of their fake paintings of Jesus
pretending god is plastic,
someone they can mold when their ideas change,
crawling on their scabbed knees searching for a red rubber ball
of redemption.

I know Jesus better than them.

and it's also true that pinpointing my anger, frustration, hurt, and guilt
makes it easier to comfort myself the best I can,
which is usually very well.

what if poetry is just a clever way for people smart enough
to twist their pretty words like metal, heating it to the right temperature,
completely bendable. Manipulated without force.
what if poetry is just a way for liars to bury themselves in more lies
on how they love the world
or how they hate it