In Florida, the Exchange for Change program teachers prisoners the art of the written word, whether in essay, novel, or poetry. And, yes, there is good reason that those of us who are not, and likely never will be, in prison should care. (See an example of Florida Prison Poet Laureate Christoper Malek's poetry below.)
Missed Takes
All things considered
drugs are people too;
there are never any around when you need them
or a shared coincidence portrayed at least;
better in small doses if you take them at all,
and sometimes better to quit both altogether
I still feel like truth can be found
at the bottom of any liquor bottle
and momma ain't raise no quitter
I tried once, but I quit quitting
she'd be proud
....
I kinda thought I was tripping
when the last thing written went to spinning
two different ways in the back of my brain
as if tucked in a chamber
of the happiest barrel to ever
prep for Russian roulette
my own hollow points
pointlessly blow any sensibilities
through illusions printed in philosophy texts
or were there better ways to burn them?
denser propensities hope the smoke reaches other planets
to make up for the shooting stars I never managed to catch
though every light I caught sparked prolonged stays in the dark
climbed down xanny bars into the deepest contents recalled
to settle on justifications jump-starting impulses to rob
and drove them past every red light screaming "Cynic!"
gotta yellow-light self-induced meditating of the past on heavy nights
and pushing the resin all the way to the tip of my mind's pipe
because lately it seems like my poems are my only friends
even though they hurt
they sting
they murder
it ain't never their intention; they're people too,
they just ain't got a lot of pride
started vibing with mine in society's basement
after someone locked the hatch from above
plus, they accept journal thoughts like these
entries for third-personing who I used to be
life is a movie
we all miss takes
but hey, we're people too
PHOTO: GETTY IMAGES