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the world changes
once those you love and trust
lock you up
in bureaucratic systems
whose sterile walls
white was your mind
with empty room promises
of integrative septic solitude.
the smug veneers/judgmental peers
isolate and dilate
he has become a good pupil
to their republican, conservative
diatribes.
the wild boy i loved
laid to waste
sanctified sarcophagi made safe
lost forever behind
rusting bars crumbling
forever forgetting
how to rattle his cage
more sedate than
GHB rape.
viewing mementos of a phantom existence
ohio's steel wool
sky scrapes the neurons
who knows what took place? certainly
the author's credibility is easily dismissed
by one clenched lid look into a
casefile
how this happened again i'll never know
but there in your picture is clearly
the left over meats
taunt chimera faces
of my genocide.
kurtice6 AT hotmail DOT com
he'd love some feedback
he's a very lonely man
Anne McMillen has been published in Open Wide and featured in Deep Cleveland Poetry. She wrote a column for The Hold. Her local police department has blocked her calls.