{#289-128}. Randall Horton

{#289-128} - Randall Horton


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nigga is a prisoner.

      —Rojai Fentress, August Correctional Center

      a heatwave envelops the mid-atlantic

      abnormal like the notion of prison

      outside an unrelenting centigrade

      oven bakes the male housing unit—

      cells are jam-packed with the guilty

      who pled out though very innocent

      7 sounded better than 25 straight

      for more than a few consecutive days

      there is a spell cast over the complex

      a 5” fan oscillates the aroma of piss

      from the toilet bowl & it’s jungle-like

      where grown men & young boys blend

      each inmate’s sadness compounded—

      no shade nowhere to hide & running

      will get that ass shot at the razor fence

      dangling in blood so you sit—suffer

      while asking is this how the story ends?

      : ARREST WARRANT

      hereby an order is issued to appear

      stand before ethical gatekeepers

      failure to comply is not an option

      jurors of the common body the state

      do believe an illegitimate break a tear

      in society’s framework did transpire

      in violation of article 27 section 30(a)

      contrary to the act of assembly against

      peace a true bill no one will care about

      criminal {#289-128} shall inherit destiny

      underneath a systemic bootheel

      no one will bemoan dire circumstance

      racism, disparities, unemployment, habit

      lack of wealth nor egalitarianism—

      the usual roadblocks shall be futile

      in this quest to not only detain but yes

      ensure erasure transpires for the good.

Image

      : DON’T TRUST THE PROCESS

      weight & waiting & wait—

      naked stand before a guard

      you are now quite invisible

      will not materialize through

      iron nor the ignorant—

      nothing changes nothing:

      intake, property, medical

      seize a piece of humanity

      each destination a moral point

      converging toward a cell

      hidden in the open by a lie

      no one actually believes unless

      given a grand tour via hands

      cuffed to unbreakable plastic

      behind the back pulled taut

      no money no phone call no bail:

      product for expenditure.

      .or. process as prosecution

      for the good of the people,

      dante & duncan said. the most

       abused of an unrighteous order

      wrote the soledad brother.

      good people do not reside here—

      screaming in a dark ocean

      the body is not constitutional

      becomes more effective than

      yelling this setup ain’t right!

      : THE MAKING OF {#289-128} IN FIVE PARTS

      *

      you will be arrested & sequestered

      as property of the state as {#289-128}

      a beetle

      in a darlingtonia

      might be more accurate.

      *

      each day/month/year builds to a question

      the response known before the query

      again & again

      disbelief is futile

      on rehabilitation

      you wait & … wait—

      *

      at some point repetition sets in:

      boiled egg, farina, white bread, bland coffee

      for breakfast reminders

      of what you have become {#289-128}

      a nonbeing from which

      escape or release is a fairytale.

      *

      the rec yard never alters its landscape:

      dirt track, hoops, weight pit, fisticuffs—

      *

      the changing same … ?

      : SORRY THIS NOT THAT POEM

      raised block flower & plant bed.

      peonies, gardenias, poinsettias

      plus a yellow orb slow rising

      over an endless golden scape—

      darting through uncluttered space

      cardinals, thrashers, sparrows

      blue air fragrant with lavender

      washing brain matter into virtue.

      if only i could pastel alphabets

      onto a canvas of thistledown

      yes, deceit comes to mind—

      .a lie. traitor. turncoat. recreant

      backstabber here i would be

      gut shanked a million times.

      this is not that poem nor am i

      that poet to hold your hand

      .or. erase knothole screams

      blood on a cement floor .or.

      suicide is another form of escape

      no-no-no—yes-i-do promise

      the evil-ugly humans inflict

      on each other to their [selves]

      how time is malice is death

      inflaming pupils with spite

      inextinguishable if set free—

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