Poems by Harvey
HYPOCRISY
A misguided soul said to me,
“AIDS cures fags.”
I whispered softly into his ear
with my flickering tongue,
“You’ve been misinformed, My Sweetness,
AIDS cures hypocrisy.
It brought to light all of your afflictions.
I’ve seen you circling the weed choked corners
picking from the crop of tattered boys
in the fields littered with pieces of red glass
and oxtail bones. I peeped you
on your knees in the dark underbelly of
‘STUDZ 24 HOURS’ and you were not praying
to one god, but to three gods who towered over you
with pants twisted around slender ankles as
their future generations oozed down your chin.
On Blue Monday, me and the sun caught you
tipping out the wounded red side door
of the Men’s Health Clinic.
Your dark shades did not obscure my eyes
or the sparkling iridescent pills in your glass vessels.
Now you’re cruising cemeteries
looking for a resting place.
Had you told yourself the truth at twenty,
you would not be dying from hypocrisy at thirty.
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