The Thirteenth of Us

Whatever the thirteenth of us said,
we are gathered here today
to remember something special.

The thirteenth of us said
You don’t have to mean the kiss
when you kiss; it’s fine to lie.

He said this and kissed the Master
with impunity, that is until we found him,
made a bloody example of him.

Without him in the picture
it would have been a fine dinner;
as it is it’s a rotten feast.

At least we were captured
in disarray, at least all our faces
were turned in disgust or dismay.

At least the Book says
do this in remembrance of me,
instead of the traitor.

He—I will not say his name,
such a man does not deserve
mention—got a lousy chapter.

We aren’t even sure who wrote his piece;
it might have been a son, or nephew
or niece who sympathized with the man.

Some say you can tell that from the writing:
it gives the impression
that there was some great controversy.

That there was some debacle
as to who was right, who wrong,
as though history doesn’t decide here.

But we, we Fathers of the Faith,
we say You can tell by the writing,
the dirty scribble, what solves the riddle.

Look closely at the writing:
there you find a man in hiding,
a man who cursed, cursed reaching thirty.

Do not tell us—we have come to celebrate
and remember our savior—
that this traitor did us a favor!