Row Home Prison


I had a dream

Not like Martin Luther King Jr

Probably not

A nightmare

Did Dr King have nightmares?

I do

Not often that I recall

 

Incisive nightmares

I am a prisoner for a crime I never committed

Imprisoned in jails, institutions, and basements

I was a prisoner in a house

The house in Camden I grew up in

Didn’t grow up but lived there

Only access to the house next door where my cat, Betty

Was held prisoner also

 

I knew I would get out

I was innocent yet I felt guilty

Depressed and optimistic

My adopted mother was a prison guard of sorts

Not listening to me

Judging me

She always thought I was guilty

When other mothers said “not my son or daughter”

My mother would say “It was probably my son”

 

I was afraid and confident amongst fellow inmates

I knew from elementary school

From high school

From college

From the internet

And you were in the next cell

Laughing madly

 

I snuck next door in my Camden row home prison to

Visit Betty

She was happy to see me but afraid of getting caught

She gave me a kiss and hid under a bush

I was happy she was alive

My only love in this world had returned

I snuck into the house to find my valuables hidden in the basement

In a crawlspace

Rotted books, records, art and clothes

I held up a t-shirt covered in rusted buttons

For some reason I felt that I was being held against my will

As a result of my books, records, art and t-shirts

Contraband in some minds that lack freethinking

 

I woke up in the prison of my cozy bed

Sweating

Relieved

Until I looked out the window and the view

To the outside was the same

 

NOTE: HOURS OF VISITATION ARE FROM 12 PM TO 8PM WEEKDAYS AND 8 AM TO 10 PM ON WEEKENDS

 

Please drop by and bring cigarettes to trade for food

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