Smoke Clouds

You said you discovered meth in the cells.

The world inside’s got no time, it’s all just colder

and darker, you said. Everything we use to escape

out here is much more needed when

the only company you have is scratches in the gray

counting down a release. When you count days by

the black that consumes you and the wails in the night.

Out here the city didn’t trust you and what you’d seen.

The days you were released were always celebrations

for everyone but you. Everyone who thought it a startover

and you couldn’t help but ask, When did the other life end?

Everyone wanted to know where you would make a living,

where you would spend your time and how many AA classes

you were willing to attend. They wanted to know what you

would do to change. No one asked you how they could help.

No one asked you what the world felt like after living in all those walls.

Once you told me, The sky is brighter, the sun’s hot as hell, and each

of these fucking white bulbs is just a reminder. Your hija is the same

age as me and she’s wandering around the world like my hija,

wondering what it means to have a felon for a father, wondering

how theft and drugs can mark a man for life.