A re-post from February 2015
A concrete room seven by twelve
measured by feet
placed one in front of the other
in the straight line I have walked for decades.
Concrete furniture permanently arranged
table, chair, bed
I have no right
to move furniture anymore.
Red metal door with opaque window
just a slot to pass the food
I will always eat alone.
I have no right to conversation or company.
Cameras watch me dark and light
even on the low water toilet
lest I try to escape to the next world.
Low water lest I drown myself.
I used to play with myself
while they watched
but not anymore.
It’s no fun when you can no longer imagine.
My room is sound proof
No window to the outside
There is no outside.
Twenty three hours a day with nothing to do
I hear no one
I see no one
Nothing to fill the void.
but the sound of my breathing and heartbeat.
I am exercised one hour a day
at the bottom of a concrete pool
under a tiny piece of sky
surrounded by concrete walls.
No birds fly over this place.
I don’t know where I am
I am kept in a room at this hotel.
I’ve never seen the other guests
though I am kept alive by someone.
If I don’t eat
the tube goes up my nose to keep me healthy;
prolong my living.
Why do they want me to live?
I can no long remember my mother’s face
or the love of a woman or green grass
I can no longer remember the color green
There is no existence save the electronic zoo.
And there is no green.
Stalin would have been more merciful
He might have simply worked me to death
under a forest canopy in Siberia
I might have died in Spring
in the arms of others
still with the memory of my mother’s face
the love of a woman
the color green.