Of Some Man

Of Some Man

A criminal – someone. Making crime committed against social expectation.

Crime of action:

necessity,

deliberate… when a hand reaches to take bread,

pick fruit,

stretch farther than comfortable,

there is silence that recognizes action of hands,

mind made to reach harder decisions.

Imbalance to society…

But when a hand lashes down to punish a criminal,

there is no tolerance, or redemption to be found.

Enforcers carry gloves, so their hands will not bloody,

so they won’t spoil their appetite

to dine with their families,

shake the fragile palm of a plump baby girl,
weigh down into another person’s face – watching the water

drip from their eyes; tolerance removed.

Tyler calls them “The Keepers”, earning a living to watch and mitigate the torment of

bastardized sons and daughters of the “system”.

There is nothing left to assure ourselves – atrocities of the night –

So glad police took them away – purged the streets,

but how far does it go: detainee, parolee, criminal and incriminated…

How long does punishment last? How much time makes it fair?

For 10 years you are punished.

For 25 to 50 years you are taken through a labyrinth carved out in cement and jagged razors, tainted blood spills over the sheets

Made sterile

life sterile,

until more time passes the ageing faces of judgment.

No purgatory could sit still enough to outlast this prison system

ridiculed “just deserves”.

How so…  when the hoses turn on,

and the nozzles are broken

so the stream aims wrecked in the face of incarceration --------- and these

are the nationals. Citizens of America.

In the land of Guantanamo the heads are hoisted on top of “Old Glory”,

as lady loves fly over to witness the deaths of their many men –

boxed up by pedigree,

held only by their bones, in spindles

of mummified cloth,

varnished strands of hair, to blink in the air,

or whatever’s left of the tapping body of National distrust.

 ~ Jessica M. Wilson  written against prisons and torture for talk at USC. 6/22/13