San Quentin

(Taurus, Locked Deep in Spring)

The homes around it are lovely,
With no bars on the windows;
They must really trust those guards.
Medieval castle
With laser guns in the turrets
On a silent blue water
Most of them never cross,
Except with their eyes.

We are locked in for the hearing.
// LOCKED IN //
Behind black, wrought-iron gates,
Having taken off our shoes
And walked through the metal detectors
At both checkpoints.
The guards are polite...
Almost too polite.
The parole officer, all in white
Leads us in.
Reintroductions are made.

He is very sorry
Says the woman in charge.
But they put him back in
For another eight months--
Resident of a castle on cruel blue water.
I know he could not have
Killed me,
But he wanted to:
The only reaction (he says) he knew.

The homes are lovely
As we head for the freeway,
To swim through traffic
Toward buildings with smaller black bars
On the doors.


© Alan Reade, 2001