Orphans.

Published February 18, 2016 by April Fox

We are all God’s children, black
white, brown
No, not black, not white
certainly not brown; those are the ones with the bombs
even though they are the ones
who most closely resemble
Jesus
Christ
on a cross; we are all
God’s children
wrapped in His loving arms
unless your loving arms are a woman’s arms, wrapped around
another, palm cupped against her
labia
for comfort while you sleep
We are all God’s children
sending you fags
to hell
We are all God’s children; suffer the little ones
unto Him
except the tired ones, the hungry ones, the ones
with holes in their socks and underwear worn thin as tissue, handed down
from older siblings
gunned down in the street
Those are nobody’s children, and they should have
their heads impaled
on the steps of the social service building
as reminders to their parents
who forgot to pursue the
Great
American
Dream
We are all God’s children, created in
His image,
plastic breasts and silicone lips and limbs torn from bodies
in the desert
dying for
[the sins of man for power for the almighty]
your country, protecting
your freedom
Blessed are the meek
for they shall inherit
the fear.

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