The Walls
by m k mcclure

Pickets pay no mind during weekday release.
Legally on the ground,
he walks away with 50 bucks
& a fair voucher
in second hand pockets.
First expenses: a jalepeño burger instead of chow
& sunmart beer instead of chalk....a smoke...
In La Libre, he leaves:
jigger holdin' to road dogs;
writ writing to in-house lawyers;
& gunning down to snipers
who see through the turnkey's kill shield.

Hearty October afternoon, big
& bright, without a cloud 'cross Texas...
Here, near the forest's perimeter,
Pine trees pine
& Mockingbirds mock.
Skies seems newer
& somehow bluer.
Free air lacks staleness of men.

"What a good day to hold an aggie."
But no! No mas!
"No more hoe squad
& high riding bosses!"

He repeats inside his brain:
"What a good day!  What a good day!"
& reciprocates 11th Street "traffic":
white cars with blue seals,
workers driving in gray,
pick-ups of co-eds,
 & surely, rumbling chain buses.

My current expedition's tacky labels
("God listens"
secure. He walks in front of me
compelling a shift.
Without human assumption,
I murmur my epithets.

I am better.
White, church women never get caught.

For slang dictionary see:

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