Robin Blaser
from Notes (1994-2000)
from The Holy Forest
(C) 2009 Estate of Robin Blaser. Used by permission.
In Remembrance of Matthew Shepard

How sad I am. How sad
this violation of the existential
given and Matthew's song —
another debt of this indecent
century — what is to be said
about this hideous traffic
in religion
that has taught
blasphemy for centuries
against Jews, blacks, aboriginals,
women, Gypsies, and homosexuals
everywhere. 'They' put on Jesus-shoes.
He never wore them.
'Their' sacrifices to hate and hell.
There is no more to be said
about God
, except the infinite exposure
of our finitude
that 'they' have taught.
Love arrives as a promise.
Every particular love is Love,
dear Matthew. How love shatters
when they stopped your song —
the shatters in which we trust.
Yes, the philosopher said: The glorious body
cannot but be the mortal body itself.
What changes are not the things but their limits.
It is as if there hovered over them something
like a halo, a glory.
Dear Matthew.

October 1998