My new blog for Under the Fable magazine will be out tomorrow. Its a (hopefully not to dull) look at the place of rhyme in poetry.
I leave this online world for five days now in order to take my mind and my family to Carmarthen Bay for a holiday.
Anyway.
Institutionalisation then.
what a subject for a poem.
so here is
one.
I used to work in a car body shop
In Holloway
We specialised in top of the range cars
Alfas
Audis
Porsche
Now anyone who knows Holloway
Will automatically know
That if you drive a nice car
In Holloway
You are a drug dealer
Or you are lost
The place I worked
Was directly opposite
The women’s prison
And the saddest thing
Was the ladies who were let out
And instead of meeting their families
Loved ones
Partners
They simply sat on the kerb
Outside the prison gates
Not knowing what to do
Waiting for someone to tell them
To eat
To sleep
To pray
To exercise
No one told them
So they just sat
Like statues
Faced with a decision
They had not had to make
For aeons
They did the only thing they could
They stood up
Screaming and kicking and biting
Until someone came out
Rescued them
Took them back
To comfort
To peace
Behind bars
Beyond hope.
Good Bye.
Stuart Buck 