This Narrow House

That I feel disgust with the state of things means that I am awake and sane and not in denial. I wrote this in a rage some years ago raging about Black Sites and Guantanamo and Tibet and all the perverse and filthy inhumanity that seems pervasive. I salute those Peace Warriors in the front lines who fight against this.

Just like a coffin where they keep me now so narrow so wet so narrow I could reach and touch both walls if I could lift my arms.   If I could lift my arms.   So cold and dark where they keep me now so narrow so wet the ceiling the walls dripping dripping. If I could lie down.   If I could lie down.   I would swim in my own piss and shit.   In the other cell there was a hole in the floor there was a hole in the floor here where they keep me now there is no hole in the floor.   This narrow house where I await their judgment their Unholy Day of Judgment.

Waiting

Waiting

Waiting