This is a stunning, heart-breaker of a poem by Reginald Dwayne Betts that I just discovered today.
Dear Augusta,
Your walls never surrender,
call out names or
recognize the sound of bodies
thumping against years as a mother’s
slatted prayer. If you mourn for the innocent,
straightjacket swaddled in a padded
room, mourn, too, for the young
man, a jackal
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