Gay Christians

William Miller

Gay Christians parade
up Dauphine Street.

It’s a rainbow double
line: black, white, Cajun
with Indian blood.

A marching band,
bass drum and wild horns,
leads them all.

They mix gospel
with Cher and Lady Ga-Ga,
play their own
funky jazz.

Church people threaten
them with hell fire,
unless they repent
right here, right now …

They ignore their critics
as more people, far more,
clap and whistle for them.

A young guy shouts out.
“Was Jesus gay?”

His lover wraps his
arm around his neck,
kisses the boy
on top of his head.

But the question lingers
in the air …

The Bible never says
if Jesus was gay or straight.

He could have had
a boyfriend who went
with him to raise
the dead, heal
a passing leper …

They are dancing now,
joyful, silly, and saved
for all time.

Near Canal, the parade
starts to break up,
but one last bigot shouts:

“Jesus died for my sins
but not yours!”

Laughter is the reply,
though some wave as
if they knew the man—
the same God
made them all.