Tonight's Poet Corner: Solitary Inmate
Solitary Inmate
by Belinda Roddie
of everything - her make-up,
her name, her ammunition,
dropping like mints onto the
floor, dissolving into powder
in cold water. Drink up, you
bitch - the cavalry's calling.
Tucked into a jail cell as
warm as a womb, she
hallucinated sunsets when
it was sunrise. She smoked
cigarettes that didn't exist, but
the smoke still coiled its fingers
around the bars. The guards
couldn't make sense of it.
There she was, stark -
all truths denied, yet all
truths exposed. All truths
gathered in clumps of wet
hair. You cut and you cut,
but the follicles stayed intact.
Everything continued to grow.
And everything continued
to sprout. And everything
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