I used to line up like this in kindergarten except with a finger on my lips walking buddy next to me If I turned around or spoke or stepped out of line I got in trouble I always got in trouble because I always had a friend in front, in back, and next to me There was always something to sayto ask There was always a joke to tell to laugh at But here and now it’s not a classroom, it’s a cell block it’s not a restroom, it’s open stalls and showers it’s not a lunchroom, it’s the mess hall it’s not friends, it’s inmates, felons, and delinquents If I squint I almost can’t tell the difference
school preparing him for what is to come
