And this is where they… shall we say – lived?
Can you see? See how the light – as meek
as the tormented – shies away from the floor?
What brutes our forefathers, ma’am, you say?
Perhaps. Those who emerged wore the carapace one way
or another forever more: it bowed their backs, fouled
their eyes, they were cowed, gazed
ever inwards.
How did they come to be here? They were felons, of
course they robbed; they maimed; they got
high. Some did the unspeakable. I know,
I know – imagine incarcerating deviants
like this!
Shall we close the door? No – a simulacrum
too far?
Barbara McGinley has been trying to write short stories for years and this year finally enrolled in a writing class–not an online one!–and had to face other people as she read her work! Now she is producing poems as well as the occasional story hand over fist! She is married and has three children, including a new baby.
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5 Responses to “LIBERATED • by Barbara McGinley”
Comments
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January 3rd, 2009 at 3:49 am
I like it, Barbara. I was a corrections officer for four years, while living in the Florida Keys. There is nothing quite like the sound of a jail door closing.
January 3rd, 2009 at 4:30 am
I love this. It’s pithy and strong.
“What brutes our forefathers, ma’am, you say?”
As those who come after will say about us, no doubt…
Thank you Barbara.
January 3rd, 2009 at 10:38 am
I like the sort of indirect dialogue you use here.
And this image stands out for me:
“See how the light – as meek
as the tormented – shies away from the floor?”
Well done.
January 3rd, 2009 at 11:48 am
Wonderful use of language. This has a great flow to it and an intensity fitting the message. Nicely done.
January 6th, 2009 at 9:30 am
Thanks for your comments. I’ve been a tutor in literacy in prisons for many years, I wrestle with issues of crime and punishmement.
Barbara