The prison

From wind howling through a black brick prison
The iron bars are rusting, shadows of voices
Bickering under a sea’s collapse,
Salt cakes and corrosion. Sentences tossed
Into gritted waves leaping
The stonewalls, leaving empty cells
Tin white like arsenic; wet mortar,
Milk steadily for a tide,
Washes over a salt marsh, haven for a bier.

Black gulls dive where a black sea runs,
They know the bottom, they know the
Squall waves dancing
Through cellar windows, drowning inmates.
Their bodies snapped and froze,
Lanced by a cold wind;
Bodies and wintering left behind
To the filled-in sea sand,
Shipwreck planks as headstones.

Gray waves mulish, tossed at
A failed institution;
What a sluttish system could do.
Humans so battered, spewed relics massed
Into a dark prison, littered into
A rutted sea. Planked-up coffins rotted in a salt,
Shark jaws obstinate to a meal.
Such collusion with contemptible guards;
The red sea ran to the cell door knob.

Copyright © 04/04/18 lance sheridan®

The prison