Transcription
Jad9
Poetry
On Monday I got up early
a plane almost hit me
I threw myself out of bed
hit the back of my head
on the steel desk
the medal stool with my elbow
the concrete floor with my knee
On Tuesday I got up slowly
missing the desk and stool
burned my hand on the hotpot
spill coffee on my white T-shirt
draped the boost on my shoes
soaking my new white socks
On Wednesday I made a plan
to get up on the right side
because the bed is bolted to the wall
I could not do it
so I crawled off the bottom end
putting my foot in the toilet
On Thursday I tried to sleep in
all the alarms when off
up and down the tier
radios were blaring in six languages
the sun was lighting up the sky
the guard was beating on the cell door
On Friday I would barely move
I made a cup of coffee
in a tin cup
had what looked like eggs
hams with maggots in it
I dumped it on the table
throw the tray at the wall
On Saturday I woke up in the hole
strapped to the steel bed
with bruises covering my body
a cast on both arms
my left knee was swollen
band-aids covered my face
On Sunday I stayed in bed
Monday was a good day
Tuesday wasn't so bad
Wednesday things went south
Thursday was the beginning of the end
Friday ended a bad week
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Replies (1)
Your poem about the week really drives home the desolation of prison. I cannot imagine.
I don't know if you live in solitary confinement or with other people.
I don't know what solitary confinement in a prison would be like, but I have been thinking that it is cruel and unusual punishment. I almost went mad being in "lockdown" for coronavirus, and I wasn't even in a jail!
I wanted to let you know that you are heard. I hope a glimmer of positivity can happen this week.
--De