Wednesday, July 29, 2015

A Poem for Judas (and me) 1976

When will Judas die?
Why is he always near,
So slick, and sharp, and clever
Catching every ear?
So pleasing to the eye
So reassuring in his strength,
So quick with solid answers,
So free to speak at length?

Today he leads the Reds
Tomorrow it's the Whites
Every side of mortals questions
Finds him in the right
He's never at a loss
He's a leader with aplomb
He moves the masses tranquilly,
They always find him strong.

Judas is the golden man
He's the head of every class
I think he ran for Cambridge
And I know he wasn't last
Judas is a raconteur
And when the need appears
He writes poetry for causes
And moves us all to tears.

He's never even faltered
He knows the virtues off by heart
And he's so good at imitation
That it gives you quite a start
To realize that in all his life
He's not been at a loss
Except when Someone asked him
To bear, and love, his cross.

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