10-24-2025, 10:24 AM
From Prey to Liberation
“There is a time for everything…”
I. Savanna
Australopithecus chased,
hyenas’ cackles ride the savanna winds.
What is distant nears and nears.
Hides in a bush of thick thorns—
pray their vicious snouts can’t sniff out.
II. The Door at the Inn
At the Inn, Greenwich Village,
the door slowly creeps open,
an eye peeks through—
a cautious ear quiet listens.
A brave step out, knowing the night’s romance
abandons the instant mocking catcalls
curdle your way.
Can you retreat to the Inn
before the footfalls are beside you?
III. Despair as Gravity
Australopithecus, gnarled hands,
scruffed face of eons, scars everywhere—
face, back, arms from numerous struggles—
barely alive, toddler-hungry, despair.
“…a time to refrain from embracing.”
Perhaps a time that lasted too long.
Oppression bruises, packs densely insults,
fears, humiliations. You think you cope—
you don’t.
Despair, a dense singularity,
sucking you inwards;
gravity never lightens.
IV. The First Tool
The southern ape, curious about a piece of flint,
nicked her fingers. Blood dropped.
The rock dropped. Sharp shards.
V. Big Bang of Freedom
BANG! It all explodes—
the creation of liberation!
“A time to reap…”
When the cops raided the Inn,
they expected docile submission to subjugation.
But the singularity bangs when it bangs!
The timing is chosen when it is chosen,
only noted in unclear memories born of chaos.
V. Lucy and the Leopard
Lucy— as she’d come to be called,
known now only by chirps and whistles—
hears no calls of friends.
While chipping the flint,
she finds a perfect piece,
and she knows it is.
But a leopard in stealth stalks Lucy.
Still no familiar calls of friends—
silence rides the savanna.
She reaches for that perfect piece of flint.
The leopard pounces! Screams! Chirps! Blood!
Lucy struggles, fights; her eyes still see it—
the piece of flint that fell and chipped just so.
She stretches her free arm, while the other locks
against the leopard’s closing jaws.
“A time to kill, a time to heal…”
VI. Stonewall
Gloom.
Two black-and-grey
satin-clad drag queens
sat pouting, smoking long tobacco
cigarettes side by side along the bar,
facing opposite directions, cast down.
The artist at the other end
is paying no mind but to his
martini and dark ruminations.
A dyke that rode in on a bike—
on her high horse— is the obvious
Empress of the Defiance Corner of the Bar.
A brighter corner of the bar,
a blonde twink in a flower-printed shirt,
fire-red leather pants,
is screaming at a leather man.
Nearing now, sirens wail.
Silence falls at the Inn.
Feet scramble, pulses rock.
This time the submissive, docile patrons
of the Stonewall Inn threw bricks.
Marsha swings back, high heel in hand—
it’s now a projectile!
They barricade the cops in the gay bar.
“How does it feel for your only safety to be your prison?”
VII. Singularity
Though her arms were long, they seemed
much too short to reach the beautiful piece of flint.
But singularities don’t follow the usual rules.
Her fingers seemed to grow—
her arm, by force of will,
grew longer. She got it.
No thinking, just instinct.
Lucy stabbed the leopard in the neck
and ripped it open, blood spewing,
leopard and her own, mixed—she’s free!
“A time to tear down,
and a time to build.”
Our tools spark
don’t just free us now
they let us build up
and strengthen
and bond us in solidarity
securing liberty for new ages
VIII. Coda
Flint, brick, shoe,
by blood or
barricade.
Claw, arm, leg,
jaw, human
animal—
to live, to love, to be free.
“As for humans,
God tests them so that
they may see
that they are like the animals.”
“There is a time for everything…”
I. Savanna
Australopithecus chased,
hyenas’ cackles ride the savanna winds.
What is distant nears and nears.
Hides in a bush of thick thorns—
pray their vicious snouts can’t sniff out.
II. The Door at the Inn
At the Inn, Greenwich Village,
the door slowly creeps open,
an eye peeks through—
a cautious ear quiet listens.
A brave step out, knowing the night’s romance
abandons the instant mocking catcalls
curdle your way.
Can you retreat to the Inn
before the footfalls are beside you?
III. Despair as Gravity
Australopithecus, gnarled hands,
scruffed face of eons, scars everywhere—
face, back, arms from numerous struggles—
barely alive, toddler-hungry, despair.
“…a time to refrain from embracing.”
Perhaps a time that lasted too long.
Oppression bruises, packs densely insults,
fears, humiliations. You think you cope—
you don’t.
Despair, a dense singularity,
sucking you inwards;
gravity never lightens.
IV. The First Tool
The southern ape, curious about a piece of flint,
nicked her fingers. Blood dropped.
The rock dropped. Sharp shards.
V. Big Bang of Freedom
BANG! It all explodes—
the creation of liberation!
“A time to reap…”
When the cops raided the Inn,
they expected docile submission to subjugation.
But the singularity bangs when it bangs!
The timing is chosen when it is chosen,
only noted in unclear memories born of chaos.
V. Lucy and the Leopard
Lucy— as she’d come to be called,
known now only by chirps and whistles—
hears no calls of friends.
While chipping the flint,
she finds a perfect piece,
and she knows it is.
But a leopard in stealth stalks Lucy.
Still no familiar calls of friends—
silence rides the savanna.
She reaches for that perfect piece of flint.
The leopard pounces! Screams! Chirps! Blood!
Lucy struggles, fights; her eyes still see it—
the piece of flint that fell and chipped just so.
She stretches her free arm, while the other locks
against the leopard’s closing jaws.
“A time to kill, a time to heal…”
VI. Stonewall
Gloom.
Two black-and-grey
satin-clad drag queens
sat pouting, smoking long tobacco
cigarettes side by side along the bar,
facing opposite directions, cast down.
The artist at the other end
is paying no mind but to his
martini and dark ruminations.
A dyke that rode in on a bike—
on her high horse— is the obvious
Empress of the Defiance Corner of the Bar.
A brighter corner of the bar,
a blonde twink in a flower-printed shirt,
fire-red leather pants,
is screaming at a leather man.
Nearing now, sirens wail.
Silence falls at the Inn.
Feet scramble, pulses rock.
This time the submissive, docile patrons
of the Stonewall Inn threw bricks.
Marsha swings back, high heel in hand—
it’s now a projectile!
They barricade the cops in the gay bar.
“How does it feel for your only safety to be your prison?”
VII. Singularity
Though her arms were long, they seemed
much too short to reach the beautiful piece of flint.
But singularities don’t follow the usual rules.
Her fingers seemed to grow—
her arm, by force of will,
grew longer. She got it.
No thinking, just instinct.
Lucy stabbed the leopard in the neck
and ripped it open, blood spewing,
leopard and her own, mixed—she’s free!
“A time to tear down,
and a time to build.”
Our tools spark
don’t just free us now
they let us build up
and strengthen
and bond us in solidarity
securing liberty for new ages
VIII. Coda
Flint, brick, shoe,
by blood or
barricade.
Claw, arm, leg,
jaw, human
animal—
to live, to love, to be free.
“As for humans,
God tests them so that
they may see
that they are like the animals.”