A concrete room seven by twelve
measured by feet
placed one in front of the other
in a 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.
Dark and light, cameras watch me
even on the low water toilet
lest I try to escape to the next world
low water lest I drown myself.
I used to get off
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 sounds of my breathing and heart beat.
I am exercised one hour a day
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 longer remember my mother’s face
or the love of a woman; or green grass.
I can no longer remember the color green
There is only 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.