What does it mean to be in love with someone when you know the relationship is doomed to end?
In his new poetry book dayspring, Anthony Oliveira’s narrator is in love with none other than Jesus Christ — I know that seems silly, but bear with me — and the book details a tender Queer love story between the two as they navigate a fate destined against them.
As a loose biblical retelling, the poems depict Christ’s life, death and resurrection, including familiar figures like Peter and Mary, but also taking place in a modern world, with cars and sour patch kids.
This version of Christ is not at all like his biblical counterpart — when asked what would happen to a woman in the afterlife if she got remarried, Christ answered, “please do not ask me stupid fucking questions.”
By using Christ as the love interest, Oliveira is able to explore Queerness in a subversive manner, because how could Christ ever be considered sinful? While this version of him may be harsh, he is also thoughtful in his actions towards others and goes to extreme lengths to ensure the safety of those around him — especially the narrator, who he is always quick to express his love for.
None of the poems have titles, and while this makes the book feel seamless, it also causes the pieces to blur together, perhaps dragging the story out longer than it needed to be.
At the heart of the book is the resilience of the pair’s devotion to each other, no matter the limited time they have together: “break my heart / as many times as you need to / i am yours.” Oliveira does not shy away from detailing their lust — while perhaps a bit graphic at times, there is never a doubt that the couple is endlessly enthralled with each other.
Sprinkled throughout are lines questioning people’s faith and beliefs. While the book invites readers to rethink some aspects of religion — like what can be considered a sin — it is also clear the narrator has an unwavering dedication to Christ, despite knowing “this isn’t going to end well / for me / for any of us.”
The poems also explore the way that the past has often been written to overlook Queer people. Oliveira writes about understanding “how horrible it is to have history notice you out of the corner / of its eye,” leaving me with a twinge of melancholy knowing what has been scrubbed away from history.
But the book washes away any notion that Queerness is sinful or should be a shameful feeling. Instead, the poems encourage readers to always live unabashedly, because what good would life be if one only ever lives to please others?
So, “why not burn?”
“I happily burn.”
dayspring came out on April 2.