Dear Correctional Officer
hmm
well here we go again
I guess I’m just an unprivileged pedestrian for you to just taunt
having an ever-present freedom that you can freely flaunt
taking pride in the power you wield over me to keep me from what I want
acting like my past is my present
as if I didn’t first have a past that was present
but became a past presence that still haunts!
Dear Correctional Officer
I get it that I’m a nail
and you are the hammer society sends whenever I decide to rebel
but the ominous hand that grips that hammer can go to hell
because all through my upbringing you have been rooting for me to fail
suspending me from your schools and sending me to your jails
tearing apart our families and charging disproportionate bails
canceling our visits,
disconnecting our phone calls,
and ripping apart our mail!
goading me from beyond the locked doors of our cells
reveling in our yells
forcing your restraints with jabs, knees, and mace as we flail
believing it a tall tale that we sell
of any aforementioned traumas that we ail
brutality being all we’ve known so we hardly venture from our shells
the frequent sound of bullets parallel,
to your cowbells
as we drink pride by the pail
in our styrofoam or 40oz holy grails
advantageously reaping from a code created to never tell
so we suffer in silence as a machismo,
and a last-ditch effort to uphold our dignity
basking in our criminal affinities
because our preordained stereotyped criminalized identities
limiting
products into proclivities, as a show of, productivity
over any sense of sensitivity
desensitized, by over-prescribed, opioids
and chemically imbalanced remedies
compartmentalized coping in epithets laced with obscenities
with our backs constantly gripped against the rails
and our shadows being the least of things creating a trail-
of suspicion, but this is
but a glimpse of being a black male
Dear Correctional Officer
boasting of your power
the paradigm of my life summed up within your work hours
gun towers
invasive showers
and threats of misconduct reports and segregation
all just to get us to cower
but I am no coward!
these numbers seldom define us
they only bind us
this number doesn’t define me, it defines you!
clocked in overtime
for a paid peace of mind, is just one of the signs,
let me remind you!
but I still have an outdate
though I’ve been imprisoned all my life, so to say,
I still have time due!
I’m not here to shine boots
and I hate the fact that prison is where I became unbound
and no longer a blind youth
just to find roots
and proof, not just spoofs of my truth!
which I’m no longer spooked
to spew
and realize all that I do,
is to defy you
looking straight in your eyes, unresigned
yet inclined, in my redesign
where I fly heights beyond roofs
combined with allies, that align and alkaline my pursuits
instead of divide
we decree, decry, devise and cosign ties
to this black sheep state of mind
so we can be heralded aside
not to be in front
and especially no longer to be, behind you
Dear Correctional Officer
ha, you tried
you try
and I almost gave up and slipped into the wayside
but this is WayOfLife
I am WayOfLife
this is my way of life
so this fight, is my way side
Dear Correctional Officer
let this be my sign off
to the largely case hurters, not caseworkers
case Damagers, not case managers
unit instigator, not Unit Administrator
chief warlord, not Warden
Subjector, not the Director
and to the Harbinger not the Governor
all of Nebraska and Nebraska’s Department of Dissection, Not Correction
and to any other unprogressive minded states, institutions, and governing bodies
collecting checks off the miserable
controlling our lives hereon
being the judgers, discerning the judged
yet calling us check collectors
locking us away because our violence imposed upon each other
yet you example that might is right, if you’re…
but we the people
the ones called offenders
not only are we redeemable
not only are we the engine of your running societal subjugation
but we are the meek
not weak
but mighty, in the resilience of your favored and constant onslaughts
our voice, our bodies, our vote, our numbers, all count
our families will be heard and whole again
our supports will sound off and hold our justice system, lawmakers, and country accountable
and our many licks and wounds will be vindicated
because we coming
and that can’t be stopped
but until all can get there
I’ll be coming
so I’ll see you soon,
on the other side,
Correctional Officer!