to shimmer
dances on
the floor.
A clang og
lock and
keys and heels
and blood-dried
guns.
Even sunshine dares
It's jail
and bail
then rails to run.
Guard grey men
serve plates of rattle
noise and concrete
death and beans.
Then pale sun stumbles
through the poles of
iron to warm the horror
These lines describe the guards serving a jailsman food through the tiny slot of their cell door. They don’t like jail, and the guard isn’t friendly or happy. The food quality isn’t good, and viewed as deathly.
Prisoner