New Poetry


The Man In The Cot Beneath Mine

The man in the cot
beneath mine

said nothing in the two days
we spent together in the jail.

He never left his bed
except to eat

his breakfast
of lukewarm grits
and orange juice

his lunch
of bread and peanut butter
chocolate milk and cookies.

I never saw him use the toilet.

He never made a sound

except once

he made a noise
that was something between laughter
and crying.

It was a sudden and desperate sound,
despair given a voice.

In a moment he stopped
and was quiet again.

I could only
listen in silence

letting him speak
for us both.


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