© 2012 RC deWinter ~ All Rights Reserved
hell’s own rock (dreamscape)
o grayblock razorwired mother,
what secrets does your ancient womb sequester?
i walk well-lit your corridors and wonder
how many have suffered and died here,
justly or unjustly;
how many have learned to live and love here,
perhaps not in ways the world appreciates
but in ways that ensure their survival.
i pull air almost desperately into my lungs as,
head swiveling so as not to miss a thing,
i watch the tan-clad tenants of your depths
some ancient and well-used to your changeable moods,
having made accommodation to the fates,
but others mere babies,
faces not yet hardened, beards just sprouting from
skin young enough to belong to my own child.
these especially seem unfinished, not ready
to be born into the rough and bloody rivalries you foster.
i peer into the rooms that line your innards
as one would peek into the cages at a zoo.
imagining the air congealed thick with the breath of others,
the floors irrevocably marked with the spilled vital fluids of the years,
and as i step into a cell and hear the steel bar clang with
i think of firefloodandplague
and how impossible it is to escape whatever befalls
when locked inside your bowels.
© 2012 RC deWinter
A view of Alcatraz from San Francisco Bay, painted
in digital oils from a photograph by Lucien Martelet.
Tech specs: Photoshop 7, Filter Forge 3, a layer of
VP5 Gothic Oils over a layer of Sketchy Painting