Erasure

When you treaded mountains together.
Because you renounced your god
Marx, and have become one of
the people you used to laugh at
smoking in Session together
Remember. when you treaded mountains
with him it wasn’t you being Jesus just
you being drunk and dreaming
of revolution; not to save
but be saved. Safe in your urban ways
years later, you still dream. Sometimes
when the traffic is bad and you have time.
You wonder if he’s one more of the missing
they parade in rallies, his face a relic,
testament, argument, the equivalent
of an ad poster. You wonder
why he deleted you from his Friendster©
friends a month ago.
Was he trying to save you
from being tagged “Terrorist”
and dragged into the cause by
not being friends with you anymore
or do you think too highly of him? and he
has become your God and condemned you
middle class. Here in the country,
the traffic’s always bad.
Your pointer finger taps your chest
you can’t bring yourself to beat
anymore, searches for Backspace
there. between the quiet beats. of
some sad mtv© generic. you know
he’ll never sing. again.