Poetry By Michael Wayne Hunter
What Time Is It?By Michael Wayne Hunter A tap on my cell door. “What?” Hard Core’s…
by Michael Wayne Hunter
Michael Wayne Hunter
What Time Is It?By Michael Wayne Hunter A tap on my cell door. “What?” Hard Core’s…
by Michael Wayne Hunter
In prison the goal is to survive. Many officers enforce the rules differently and arbitrarily, making…
by Amber Martens
My Love Letter to the StreetsBy Gerardo Esquivel My infatuation goes far beyond emotionI gave you…
by Gerardo Esquival
Dear Minutes Before SixBy Mark Torres It’s one second before six-thirty. That is bright and early…
by Mark Torres
Episode Two: Of Cellies, Hacked Toilets, and the Quest for the Elusive Third Option To read…
by Thomas Bartlett Whitaker
Judge Not Until Thee Judge 1st !!(DECODE THE CHEATCODE) Manifestations of the conditions and standards that…
by Kevin Gordon
He heard the correctional officers’ steps echoing off the floor and then keys as they jingled…
by Anthony Rauda
There were many lines at the camp. The meal lines, the shower lines, the pill lines,…
by John DiMenna
When it’s time to take a break from the day-to-day irritations that come with serving a…
by Andrew Krosch
What does it take to touch the heart of a man? Comforting memories for prisoners can…
by Terry Daniel McDonald
