a poem sent by a donor to the Frank Kameny burial fund.
Random Acts of Protection
for Frank Kameny
At nineteen, I came out, a teen student in DC.
And joined a talk show panel with Frank Kameny
When, from the fourth row, one man called out: Sinners!
A baby dyke who had not learned to fight, I learned from Frank.
I watched him duel our critic word by word,
Returning chapter blows, refuting verse,
Silencing homophobe with a swaggering precision;
His style a knife to carry against threat.
He was nobody’s daddy, the father of the movement;
Not some gorgeous prince, this king of our crusades and protection.
His face front page as I walk, now, at fifty, with The Blade’s news of his passing
And in the uncertain rain I use the unexpected news as my umbrella.
Frank Kameny protects me, one last hour.
Unaccountable, the laws that bear his mark,
The freedom my torch carries from his spark,
The grief I feel to find his ember dark.