Incarceration Poem by Martins Akhoeneto

Walls of today, walls of tomorrow
Same I gaze upon, twice in a dying second
Stand before me and tide and time lingers
Forming my companion; my gaoler.
Gathers mosses at daybreak till jail-break
Record roll call in glee as breathalyzers
These great walls of Jericho crumbles not
Before my molten eyes of swift innocence and melancholy
Even by stampede of a thousand inmates
Feeds on street nuisance and blood-red
Anointing my suture, in romance of torture
My cocoon is tasky, weighs tons
In fifties and in ten barons
And ceremonial breeches at bric-a-brac
Soaks in dirty droppings, now a timid church-rat
On crafty guilt, polite mind; my counsel
Provokes a total overhaul, oiling the interiors
Behind our own travails, our holy skeletons
Standing as bill-boards, watches my trials
With engraved inscriptions, litters its bowels
Preach these to my son, your tendrils; jailer.