bene ascolta chi la nota by Frankie Metro

they say prisoners
are more prone
to violence
& depression
because a replenishing
source of Vitamin D
is lacking in their everyday
lives,

that it’s just as much
physical as it is
mental

that it’s only a matter of time
locked away in holes
of the reinforced earth
men & women
are prone
to want to kill/rape/lie/steal/etc.

Looking at this notebook
one more time
on another day
that I wake up @ 2pm
and see the same snarling
grimace between the lines
while slam poets stand up
in coffee shops on Wednesday
& Thursday nights,
screaming about the block they’re from,
or making light of the craft,
& my wife stopping at the door to say
that I look busy, very “poemy” right now, leaving
me to another “represso” session
pounding at the headstone
that will never say poet,
I’m ready to take a long,
much needed walk,
and forget this cave,
this “craft”
ever existed.

The poem is a warden.
The poem is a jug of toilet wine.
The poem is never through with you.
The poem always gets the top bunk.
The poem clangs the bars in your sleep.
The poem never lets you forget.

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