Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

There are 14 seats in the dayroom.
Same seat every day in prison.
I was watching Seinfeld.
I really love this show.
Marc Miller walked up to the TV;
He changed the channel,
Just like that.
Before I could blink - my mouth was in gear.
There he was, staring at the TV.
My words rained around him.
I was cussing him out – decent.

His eyes seemed to be everywhere,
searching – ignoring me.
I believe THAT, more than anything else,
Infuriated me the most.
The show was just getting good.
My favorite part!
Then here he comes: [click]
Channel 7 News.

Now, I know a thing or two about bullying;
Power and Control, issues of self, yes,
All the tactics and strategies.
It’s all about what I want when I want it.
And yet, despite my understanding, I did it.

I opened my palm,
Placed it on the back of his shoulder,
And pushed—hard.
He stumbled forward a step, turned,
And his eyes met mine…
The look seemed all too familiar to me.
As he opened his mouth to speak-
Something within me now wished him to silence.
“I lost my mama”, he said.
“She died and I can’t call home. I was hoping to see…”
He turned back to the TV-
To the news,
The Channel 7 News.
We both watched.