Late August: Early Hours

Late August, the early hours and noise in my head:

Communication within cells

Sneaking through tunnels painted serene-green

Workshopping my imagery

Like it holds the shovel below me

Rising tempos and graffiti

What can I describe that tells you

I am

So alone

Weeds overgrown or an old phone

A mother or an inmate

Between cells serene-green

If they were to communicate

I could write the expressions like a simile

Like that

Sneaking as rats grown fat with sewage

We can stuff our cells with anything we like

But only your person

And the items painted strike

Red

— ODH