The Moment

Like a lion,

I rip apart this cinnamon raisin bagel,

before plunging my face into this coffee, lapping up the sugar and caffeine.

I wipe the cream cheese off my face with my sleeve.

The lady across from me looks disgusted.

I reckon she’s never seen a free human before.

The coffee shoots through me,

so I pull out my pecker and piss on the floor.

She’s never seen a free human before . . .

I stand on the table and do a cartwheel,

and I feel free—

I feel like me.

This is it, this is the moment:

I am genuine,

I am real,

not just an algorithm,

or a face on a screen,

not just a zombie,

I didn’t conform to society,

my phone isn’t in front of me,

I am here, in the present, not distracted by the future, 

or news about a celebrity.

I growl, a growl from deep down—

a truly primal sound.

The ancestors roar.

The DNA inside of me starts to vibrate.

My cells buzz around happily.

My eyesight sharpens.

My skin hardens.

I am no more than an animal.

I am free and it was society that was caging me.

It was culture that was taming me.

It was lies that molded my disguise.

I jump from table to table,

singing a song;

a song from a time long gone,

but a song everyone knows well.

A song about how to rebel.

When heaven becomes hell,

What do we do?

We rebel.

When the darkness consumes the light,

What do we do?

We light up the forever night. 

When all hope is lost,

And our words come at a cost,

What do we do?

We rise. 

When everything is bought

And nothing is given;

When they hunt your seconds, your time and your attention;

When the whole world is one big distraction;

What do we do?

. . .

What do we do?

I ASK YOU . . . What do we do?

. . .

When nothing is true

And all is forgot,

The soul will rot.

So, what shall we do?

I stopped jumping and sat in a chair, and softly and slowly sang the last line, 

When heaven becomes hell . . .

What do we do? . . .

We rebel . . . We rebel. 

The cafe explodes with applause, proving to me this is not a lost cause. 

But then I hear the sirens. 

They’ve never seen a free human before, 

they’ve only seen those who perform, 

I think with a frown, 

as they arrest me.

CH 9/7/26