I remember going into the jails and prisons in the late seventies, early eighties, to teach poetry. The jailer would unlock a room filled with prisoners, tell me they'd be back in an hour, two hours, or three, depending on the agreement with the arts organization. Most of the imprisoned knew poems by heart. We'd talk, write and speak poetry, laugh and cry. I was not with the most hardened of
Published on February 28, 2012 07:13