I’ll disappear when I’ve served my time.
I’ll slip between worlds and disappear.
I played that pious pulpiteer
too long, too long defined by my crime.
The universe replenishes its grime,
an ounce of absinth toasted insincere:
I’ll disappear when I’ve served my time.
I’ll slip into the void and disappear.
An ounce of mercy steeped in pantomime
belies the transposed targeteer;
every undeserved remorse is near,
every unrehearsed remorse I climb:
I’ll disappear when I’ve served my time.
John Corley writes from the Louisiana State Penitentiary at Angola where he has served 29 years of a life sentence. He is a recipient of the PEN award for playwriting and a National Council on Crime and Delinquency award for journalism. His first poetry collection, Pagan, was released in 2018.
Comments
No posts