Imagine being Moses

Imagine being Moses.

You free your people from slavery

only to watch them get taken

over by sodomite pharaohs

who sacrifice children

to Molech, steal vineyards

while murdering their owners,

bulldoze olive trees,

dump cement into cisterns,

and write their prayers on

the bombs that brought

them out of Egypt having

kicked your Ten Commandments

to the curb since none

of the stories about you

are actually real

but dollars and guns

definitely are.

You killed a man for

beating his slave;

you told the sons of Levi

to cut down the blasphemers;

you melted the golden calves

and made the people drink them.

How many times a day

do you regret telling God

not to wipe out

your stiff-necked people

and start over with you?

So you come back in thousands

of bodies who leave their

palaces of privilege and

stumble into the wilderness

to find the burning bush

you found and become

a family of god-wrestling

prophets no less zealous

for justice than Phinehas

was for racial purity as they

thrust their spears

through the lies of Ba’al

the conqueror who tells

Cain his brother Abel

is Amalek and demands

that he rid the land

of every other tribe.

When every Elijah has

testified and the

lake of fire has burned

through the stupidity

of those who put their

trust in guns and dollars,

we will grab hold of

the priests of Ba’al and

their billionaire sodomite pharaohs

to demand reparations

for their crimes against humanity.

When Ahab repents

and returns Naboth’s vineyard,

when Jacob remembers

that Esau’s face is

the face of God,

when Joseph’s brothers

stop hating poets

with rainbow-colored coats,

when warriors become

gardeners and kings

sweep the streets

they used to own,

when god-wrestlers

stop crucifying their messiah,

then Zion will bloom

with a glory that cannot

abide a land of

theft and rape and war.