Prison

The prisons look

Nice these days

With their energy-efficient

Lighting

Air-conditioning

High-speed internet.

Everyone tucked away

Inside their little boxes

Pretending it matters

Pretending they matter.

They know it doesn’t

And so do I.

Yet it’s not a factory

A production line

Not some fast-food chain.

It is paradise

If you don’t look

Too closely.

But I look closely

Because I am inside

The box

A box held together

By obligations

By things

By people

By reasons

I don’t recall

Ever signing up for.

This is success,

They tell me.

The right to stay home

Not hungry

Not cold

Not scared

Just bored

And alone.

A life sentence.

A man could survive one

But not both.