Wednesday, August 26, 2015


I wasn't supposed
To end up in Mississippi,
In fact, I should have
Been sailing through the sky
In a fancy jet to
A tropical island but....
Things had changed.

They had first changed
For the better and
Then they got worst,
So much worst.

As the clang of
The jail cell shattered
My reverie, I looked
Around the holding cell.

The women ranged
From hardened criminals
Who lounged around
The cell as though
It was a room in
Their home, to
Innocent women who
Sat in whatever corner
The could find, heads
Down, perhaps praying
To get out.

As for me, I was neither,
And some would say
I was both.

A seasoned criminal
Who had never been
Caught, that is until

A good con
Turned bad and
Now I was facing
Prison. And for
Some eerie reason
I was not sad.

I had accepted
My fate, but
Something told me
That at a moment's
Notice, everything could
Change for the better.

Perhaps, I will see
That tropical island
Sooner than I think.

1 comment:

Buddah Moskowitz said...

I love the perversity of the hidden optimism here. Superb, babe.