Poetry by Mark Torres
Dear Minutes Before SixBy Mark Torres It’s one second before six-thirty. That is bright and early…
by Mark Torres
Dear Minutes Before SixBy Mark Torres It’s one second before six-thirty. That is bright and early…
by Mark Torres
There were many lines at the camp. The meal lines, the shower lines, the pill lines,…
by John DiMenna
LA MUERTEBy Fernando Rivas They’re all deadWho is? They. Them.Who are you talking about? Can you…
by Fernando Rivas (TX)
“We arise from deeper forces, but our choices cannot be known in advance–so we have free…
by Fernando Rivas
Broken MindBy Cody Calcott Mind broken into a thousand piecesTimes 8 thousand pieces all around myHead…
by Cody Calcott
A fascinating document appeared yesterday on our prison computer billboard along with the usual notices about…
by Fernando Rivas
I love new beginnings. I’ve compiled a lifetime of them. But I have a blind spot…
by John DiMenna
So, here’s something you may not know. In the Federal prison system, everyone must have a…
by Dan Grote
A Place Called HomeBy Steven P. Arthur There is a placewhere life walks with a profoundlimp…
by Steven Arthur
When I arrived at federal prison, a minimum-security camp north of Boston, a muddled brotherhood was…
by John DiMenna
