in jail he walked a long rectangle
one way several times then reversed himselfwalked in the opposite direction
in the huge common room on a wide aisle between cafeteria tables at its center and
bunkbeds on three walls their heads pushed up against the walls
in jail everything was pushed
pushed by white
guards who made their bread bullying a majority black and brown men
he was one of the few whites the other whites werent his measure so he was
careful
his wing had been busted he was
still healing
fortunately he wasnt going to be
in long he had a zealous county prosecutor but other legal partisans disagreed he should be jailed at all so he kept to himself and walked
and read as he walked miles and miles around that room a few men took up with him though not reading
concurring If I did that I’d trip and kill myself.
the first to follow him were the
ones he gave his desserts
he didnt eat dessert
as it
was he was having a hard time finding food in the meal trays they were given he supposed the kitchen or acquisitions believed
crappy food was part of their punishment guys
whose families could afford it bought foodstuff through a profit-driven
commissaryChrist theres profit and then
theres being ripped-off Got no choice, man.
food they
bought seemed to him comfort food akin to packaged food
they were raised on unfortunately they
were from poor neighbourhoods where food deserts were rife
an old adage tickled him while he was
in because it wasnt true
You don’t
know what you got until it’s gone.
what he had he still had it was only absent
he befriended no one
but as he was
leaving a few of the guys said theyd miss him
fuck if theyd keep walking in circles
but theyd miss his desserts
saying it like it is
that he was going to miss
2109 or 909, Sunday,
8 11. 20
1149, Monday,
9 11. 20
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