Poems From Jail

How Can I Tell You?

Flow can I tell you what it is like

- to be in three jails in eight nights?

- to be transported in shackles and chains?

- to be with women suffering withdrawal from crack and heroin lying on the floor like animals?

- to hear the sound of the keys, the slamming of doors?

- to sleep on plastic mattresses with lights on?

- to live with no windows in a 12 x 14 space with four other women, 24 hours a day?

- to never be alone in a room?

How can I tell you what it is like

- to have a guard bring us a deck of cards?

- to have a jail chaplain visit daily?

- to have inmates share a bag of commissary goodies?

- to be supported by families, friends and communities?

- to be detached, to be stripped of every thing but self?

I know

I can tell you over a cup. Of tea when next we meet.

Carol Gilbert, OP
October 2, 1998
Kent County Detention Center
Chestertown MID

JAIL SENSES

SOUND -

TV noise (Jerry Springer to Fundamentalist Preachers)

Jingling Keys

Slamming Metal Doors

LISTEN TO THE SILENCE!

SIGHT -

Graffiti walls (Sex to Religion)

Mildew Showers

Roaches I Mice

CANADIAN GEESE FLY SOUTH!

SMELL -

Stale air

Bleach

Lice Soap

COOKIES BAKING!

TASTE -

Lukewarm diluted coffee

Kool-aid

Canned Vegetables

FRESH FRUIT!

TOUCH -

Stainless Steel Toilets

Plastic Mattresses

Cold Cement Walls

CIRCLE OF HANDS IN PRAYER!

Carol Gilbert, O.P.
October 15, 1998
Kent County Detention Center
Chestertown MID

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