Poet, be comforted, be raised up to celebration: as to
your poems, the Young Muses gather, the Loves (as Bion
named them)---long-haired, slender, shirtless and barefoot,
clad in all styles of jeans, all the various shade of blue,
to revel thus in your Poetry, and therefore encourage you
beyond the reach of prejudiced and homophobic hatred.
Where the Loves' eagerly grass-stained soles have tread and trod
becomes, also, a tract hallowed and sacred,
across the Cosmos whence they came, summoned by LOVE, Who is God.
J-Called