I stood on The Mall and watched the preacher
in his finest suit on the video screen.
Loud speakers proclaimed his decree
as he talked of the downturn of our great nation.
Our morals were in jeopardy and in need of protection
against those who dared to live a life consumed in freedom of choice.

I stood alone and scanned the crowd.
Parents held tightly to their young children.
Old people sat in their lawn chairs and waved their flags.
Music began to play and filled the air with a sweet uplifting chant.

The preacher began to speak again.
A fear was spread throughout the crowd.
The utterance of God and faith swayed the minds
of those in attendance as his momentum began to rise.

Once indifferent, I was now consumed with a feeling of disenchantment.
I stood dismayed as the preacher worked his evil across the crowd.
Visions of burning stakes flickered in my mind.
A witch hunt was underway.

They speak of this disease of birth that affects the brain
and malformed genes that create a confusion and abnormal sexual behavior.
But surely there is more to a union of love than a penis and a vagina.

My thoughts take me to old England and the ceremony of wedlock.
A simple exchange of individuals sharing feelings.
The intimacy of a close union.
A bond between two people in love.

In my mind I hear the Declaration of Independence.
The Bill of Rights.
The Constitution.
Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.
Have they become mere words on frayed, deteriorating parchment?
No true American could dare deny these liberties to all.

I shake my head and walk away.
Fuck the preacher.