Closed Doors
Carmina Masoliver

Believe in biology, bones and brains built
on evolutionary theory. Nature as a blade
of grass, a sharp tooth, a claw digging backs.
House made of a solitary brick. Smash
systems made of bleeding hearts. Handle
with gloves. No blood on my hands, no blood
on my hands. National cries dumbed down,
stuffed into one voice box, changing the tune,
twist minds in the liminal, white space of red top
stacks simply sensational 72 pt. headlines,
sex and drugs and moral panic on family
coffee tables to the sound of a happy slap,
a smack against a slipper, a broom handle,
anything I could get my hands on. ASBO tags,
masculine bracelets of bravado, left to burn,
locked up and sit down and think about what
you've done. Prisons don't need books,
never liked school, never liked reading,
not gonna change a thing. Like childhood
bedtime stories would ever rest my mind. No
sleep, no rest, no sleep, no rest for the wicked.