San Francisco
across the Bay.
The sea,
the prison bars.
Raining outside
hostility inside.
Angry and sad.
To be free again.
My book-
it’s my escape

whilst in here.
He damaged it.
Anger thickens
the air
already tight
in this 5×9.

My cellmate at window.
Concrete and sweat
Fill the air.
Wet, sad, sorry
It never happened
I was jealous
that he could escape
into his book,
I tore out
the last page and ate it.

© Stuart Patterson 2019

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