Prison Radio
Spoon Jackson

Misdirections.

People wonder why He tends to the plants like He does. Touching them. Them touching him. People wonder why He sits looking at the sky, tending to the birds. The bird sang to Him and He to them. Touching spirits; sharing freedom. People wonder why He spends so much time-sharing affection with plants and birds.

Because it’s against the law for a man in the department of misdirections to be human. To touch and sing with others. Here it’s against the law to be a man. Here it’s against the law to be human. Here it’s against the law for men to like women. To touch, hug and kiss a woman, even on visits. Here it’s against the law to be a man and like women. Don’t wonder why. Look through the bars in your eyes that blinds you from seeing a man as a man. Look to the bars in your eyes that blinds you from seeing men in prison are human. Look to the bars in your eyes, you superhuman perfect people looking down your loan, sunburned noses.

No, don’t wonder why. But look to the bars in your eyes that imprison your spirit. When you scream sexism and discrimination, don’t wonder why. Don’t speak of equal rights. Don’t speak of human rights. Don’t speak of right to choice. Don’t speak of animal rights. Don’t speak of saving the earth. Don’t speak of any of those damn things. You perfect men and women, don’t speak of any of those things with your phony loving hearts.

I am the voice of the non-perfect people who make mistakes in life. The homeless, the prisoner, the lost, the lonely, the loving, the peaceful and the colorful. No matter what the long nose sunburnt hypocritical people say, don’t listen to them. Continue to be human. Men continue to like women; women continue to like men. People continue to like people. Don’t listen to them. Continue to be human. Continue to love, to live, to touch and share a moment. Despite the sun burnt people, despite the department of misdirection, continue to be human. Don’t listen to them. Don’t listen to them, for the bars, and their eyes, are their own.

(Sound of a cell door closing.) These commentaries are recorded by Noelle Hanrahan of Prison Radio.