Letter To The Editor: Jack Kirsch

POEM by Jack Kirsch @ Federal Correctional Complex, Florida

JAILHOUSE MOUSE
I woke one night and saw him run beneath my door, then he ran
into my box where all my goods was stored.
Wheel my friend, I’ll tell you he could of run across my toes, but
that mouse committed a felony when he stole me Oreos.
So, I chased him all around my cell and caught him in my first.
Then I saw the strangest thinking and loosened up my crip. I
couldn’t believe the wonder that my eyes had seen, there was a
set of Harley Wings tattooed upon his paw.
He said, “go ahead convict and send my life to Hell, but before
you do please listen to the tale I have to tell.”
I was born a jailhouse mouse in a hole like no other, never really
know my dad, nor did I know my mother.
I’ve been in every prison from a level one to a level five. I’ve had
to live on chicken crumbs just to stay alive. As for the Harley
Wings, well that’s another tale.
I earned them in San Quentin in a rowdy biker cell. So go ahead
convict and send me to hell so I don’t have to run to live and
steal from cell to cell…
Well, my friend, I got soft and set him free, then he ran out of my
cell and flipped the bird at me!