The Atlas map book
Says nothing about our lands and forest rights,
The exploitation of the poor by the rich,
The loss of our traditions and culture,
Disease, hunger and death:
everything is in the words
like twisting the night into spools of time. sometimes I am quiet like the made bed, waiting for the weight of arms and legs and backs, and at others I am the dinner tray, wine and clams and reluctant poinsettias, set for dining. but all the while the television set threatens to burst into life.
I shook the door a little but the metallic grating made my teeth wince. The 19th century colonial powers raised in the outskirts of the cities’ massive prisons with the same care and thoroughness they built their governors’ mansions. In their days too, the Hastings prison had a record of escape twice a week.