The Free Radical

I know; it makes you think of Frankenfurter, right? And Tim Curry in his fishnet stockings is… well, disturbing. Well, honestly, we’ve been “turbed” quite enough, thank you very much; it’s time now for a little disturbance… without having to kick us all squarely in the complacencies!

The sun comes up on cliffs of mud,
Squeezed and trodden memories between my toes;
Held frozen and captive in prison hearts,
My brain begins to melt, and oozing, flows…

I recall the messages from Brother Bear,
Invisible sovereign turning stones;
In fields of berries leftover here,
Sitka gnaws on gigantic bones!

I’m all a-quiver in anticipation. Every day I expect to see the evidence of Bear having emerged from his winter den. I’ve been careful to leave him bearberries and juniper and rose hips dried upon the branches in the fields. He’ll be hungry for pleasure and vindication.

We were well instructed to contemplate the meaning of sovereignty in a prison system. First we had to pry the bars from our befuddled vision, before making any bold declarations to silent universes smothered in our own breasts. We’re ready now… to stand in our own strength, alongside Brother Bear, fearlessly.

There’s nothing left to fear. We already have everything we ever wanted. We were taught to strive beyond our reach; all the while our hands were tied behind our backs. There’s nothing more pathetic than slaves trying to look dignified.

Let us be filthy in our emancipation instead! The Earth is warm mud and laughter… And ha! Oldentimes, the joke’s on you. Roses will be here soon… in their pink hue and spices– they’re invincible! We never grew old; it was all just a ruse… to make us open our eyes… and see ourselves wise.

Yeah, looks good from where I’m standing!