the bespoke
white jacket
and shoes
sans laces
were the same
only
these “prison” walls
are colder
than last time
i booked a room
especially tonight
as the rain comes
and the grouted grooves
direct precipitation
to act the part of tears
in the production of
my self-imposed sentence
for an audience of
ONE
someday soon
i’ll be on fire
and they’ll let me walk
right out of these confines
boarding pass in hand
taste of bacon and eggs
in my mouth
even then
the doctors will snicker
behind closed doors
under hushed tweed
and medicated snores
keep his cell
warm and padded
he’ll be back
