The size is seven paces to the north...
Five paces to the west...
I has no natural light...only artificial.
The light is turned off by an invisible hand...
Every night at 9:00 p.m.
In my cubicle is a rusty sink with a rusty water faucet.
It has a rusty toilet with a banged up aluminum seat.
I get a bar of soap every two weeks.
I get to shower once a week for five minutes...cold water.
Meals are scant and lack nutrition.
I do get room service, three-times-a-day.
One hour a day, I exercise by myself.
It's outside in a 12x12 foor concrete pen...It's large, and has fresh air and sunshine. I love seeing the sun, clouds, and blue sky.
This is the best time of my day.
I get reading materials from the trusty, but they are too childish for my tastes.
I read the Bible or the Koran at night.
I've read the new and old testaments twenty times, and always find new meanings. No one visits me here anymore.
I talk to God, the devil, and myself.
The machine whirrs in my head.
Sometimes I hear voices.
This frightens me, so I increase my endless sit-ups, and push-ups.
I also run in place, and work myself up into a pretty good lather.
I've gotten used to my own smell...In fact, it comforts me.
It lets me know I'm still alive...I'm still me!
I'm not beaten.
I'm not tortured, except by myself.
I'm just here.
I'm still here, YOU BASTARDS!
I shouldn't yell like this anymore.
I should just scream silently, in my head.
You see?...I'm wise to their game.
They won't beat me if I'm silent.
I've got time on my side.
They're afraid of that.
This is my power!
from: Chicago Stories and Other Thoughts from a Working Class Guy...available on Amazon.com