Attica

Have ever you been
on the inside
deep down in the wretched bowels
of our societies underbelly

Have you smelled the
raw stench
of rotting life
passing, wasting away, disintegrating into
reminiscing of a life
never given a chance for
clean living

You think you're a soldier, huh
Imagine your beautiful woman
visiting on that weekend bus
your sexy mamasita
applying makeup and pulling on stockings
in the dank dark bathroom
only to have unnamed guards
strip her, search her
rub treacherous hands all over
her body
degrading her very attempt
to be feminine, loving and supporting

Can you even begin to fathom the quiet but
thunderous moment when
the heavy barred door to
the world as we know it
clangs shut,
forever sealing her in with
the nation's most murderous, most treacherous
most vile and most cruel
In case of uproar her only hope for survival rests on
a clear ink stamp
on the top of her hand
that the X-Ray machine might verify
belongs to a visitor;
if she makes it

Have you ever smelled the
nauseating stench of
grown men incarcerated
tasted the putrid hate of
lustful envious eyes
Tried to maintain ice cold calm
and still your beating heart
to stare down the
curious eyes of a terrifying human animal

Have you ever experienced Attica?