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Red patterns on wall
Photo by Viktor Vasicsek on Unsplash

It’s been so long
Dust has gathered over kaptor’s key
As if paralyzed
Stuck in a box beside my shoes
There’s no logo on this lid
Just six digits
I checked the tag
It’s a price warriors bled
Over land and altars
Spirits splish upon African tongue
In the mist of resistance
Before kursed eyes
Those of my continent’s daughters
Outside lines of man-made laws
I draw the lessons
Lessons learned in a royal substance
A full grown beast
I sit at the kill
As God
Very well I know the intricacy
That of our history
My relative’s son’s blood
That stain my insoles
Below cherry laces

Disclaimer: The views in this article are those of the author. Prison Journalism Project has verified the writer’s identity and basic facts such as the names of institutions mentioned.

Dolo Burgundy is a poet incarcerated in Michigan. He writes under a pseudonym.