For Those Who Remain Silent

I Held the Coats

Pelted with stones, ragged and worn, bleeding and crying

Stephen looked to heaven, pleading to God

A merciful rock struck his head

“I think he’s dead,” someone said.

The men, soaked in sweat, glowed with righteous pride

Satisfied one of those blasphemers died

Saul was happy his hands remained unstained with blood

He’d only held their coats and watched

The man lying on the ground, dying for what he believed

What had they achieved, justice?

Only God would know

                    ~

Michael glared at Monty

Nose flared, lips curled with disdain

“You’re a fag,” Michael said.

“You don’t belong here, queer.”

A crowd gathered

A chant rose among the voices

“You don’t belong here, queer!

You don’t belong here, queer!”

I was there, standing next to my locker

Holding my coat

I knew Monty from drama class

He had talent, expressive and cool

Now, only a fool would be his friend

I could’ve shouted Michael down, yell he was a liar

But I just stood there, aware of the tears welling in Monty’s eyes

Red cheeks betraying his stoic disguise

He had to walk down that hall

Every day for the next two years

I didn’t chant the words or yell a slur

But I’m sure I bear the guilt of persecution

Because –

I held my coat and stood idly by

                    ~           

I was in the Army

Basic training at Ft. Benning, Georgia

There was a guy in my platoon

His name was Fleer

Soft spoken, articulate, generous and helpful

I wondered why he wanted to be in the Infantry

The word got around fast

“Fleer is a queer”

Even the Drill Sergeant uttered his name with distaste

Suspicion about him came to a crest

Before we marched to bivouac, they gave him two shelter halves

He had to be in a tent by himself

Odd man out

Drill Sergeant threw me another half, also

I cursed the added weight, the extra item

I had to cram into an already crowded rucksack

I knew I could’ve lightened my load, lightened Fleer’s as well

If I could’ve said, “What the hell,”

Volunteer to be his buddy

I didn’t say a word

I hoisted my ruck, bent over from the load

Fleer’s face told me he carried a burden heavier than mine

I could’ve been a friend to Fleer

But people would’ve thought I was queer

He didn’t make it

Dropped out the next week

Rumor was, he told the company commander

He was a homosexual

Everybody laughed

I didn’t gossip or go along with their views

I didn’t say anything

But I do bear the guilt

I held the coats

                    ~

After work one night police officers gathered for “choir practice”

On the roof of the old Wonder Bread building downtown

Drinking beer, laughing, unwinding

We were having a good time

Somebody assessed the turnout

Impressed, he said, “We all made it, all but one.”

“Ah shit,” came another drunken slur. “He don’t count.”

A third voice broke into the fray, harmonized with the other two

“He’s so sensitive,” he said, limp wrist and lisp

The crowd, aroused, soon took up the tune

They crooned, “He’s not one of us.”

They sang their diatribes, voices corrupted to cries

Spreading the lie that fags deserve to die  

I tried to smile, pretended to laugh

Just playing along, I didn’t sing their song

I knew Joe’s reputation was damaged by this

A voice of reason could’ve reversed the sting

But I couldn’t sing on Joe’s behalf

I remained silent

I held the coats

                    ~

Now, I stand here, labeled as queer

I walk my own gauntlets, now

I know I’m a hypocrite when I ask you to speak in my behalf

If you should hear people cursing my life

Throw down those coats, don’t stand idly by

Say something, take action

Someday you may know the pain of persecution

The price of cowardice

When intervention can shift their attention

Away from you