Hushed and heavy
Like water near the Ocean’s floor,
Then loud and bitter,
Like fractious storms lashing the sky
Everything cement and nerves
And too many years gone by...
The heart requires a place to rest
From all its maddened wanderings
The raft of the Medusa tossed
And trembling in the sea.
Or just this table here
And you across from me,
A sunlit sail
And I this aching castaway.
I cannot touch you--it is not allowed.
Our eyes hold
Hanging onto words
Until a hand falls upon the back
The narrow hall, the clanking keys
The door, the cell
Marie Mason is an anarchist and eco and animal rights prisoner serving nearly 22 years in federal prison for acts of sabotage carried out in defense of the planet.
This is the harshest punishment of anyone convicted of environmental sabotage to date. No one was injured in any of her actions.
For more information, visit SupportMarieMason.org
Also in this issue: “With Conviction: Art and Letters from Behind Prison Walls,” was displayed in January at Sacramento’s Exhibit S Gallery featuring prisoner art, letters, and zines. Chicago-based Anthony Rayson and Michael Ploski, amassed hundreds of pieces of original artwork rarely before exhibited beyond prison walls including four acrylics from Marie Mason seen above.
The opening on January 14 was a packed house and heard a talk by Rayson on the assembled art as well as one on Marie by jenny from the Sacramento Prisoner Support crew.