Prison Boxing Paroles

and few would follow
somewhere a violin bows and a rock a rolled

Prison boxing got to me
the toughest fights you rarely see
beyond the bars

and all the fists and gloves
a cruising waits with eyes swelled shut
and look at them
no one wins

till my friends say
"how are you? It's been too many years."
And I say, with purity and candor,
"I've missed you."

So bring your poppies home to us
forget the roses, buttercup.
There'll be no need. and not yet bury that I'm ready for.

I won't press you in a book,
a flat brown shell of what you were.
I'll never need another look.

Cause I'm not proud, I'm not ashamed,
I'm not at risk of forgetting your name.
You are unending.
I found some peace in

and when my friends say
"how are you? It's been too many years."
And I say, with purity and candor,
"I've missed you."