I taught basic skills in a men’s prison, Category C. The gates and locks took a bit of getting used to, but I liked the people I met and I had a different idea of prisoners by the time I left.

I give my tally in and take my keys
exchange some pleasantries, unlock and lock some gates,
and then I’m in the classroom with the men.

Metal bars and heavy doors and locks
systems recording sentences and dates
bare corridors where masks are worn on faces
and bullying men make hell in hidden places.

And on the walls official notices that state
the punishment is being locked away
and we must have humanity not hate.

I hear their stories and I feel the pain
of loveless early days and bad mistakes
and tragic moments caused by twists of fate.
Some are contrite and some pretend to be.

I’m not a Christian so I cannot say,
Betwixt the stirrup and the ground you’ve time to pray
and god will wipe your every sin away.

He couldn’t read before he came to class.
He didn’t know the earth goes round the sun.
And will this knowledge make him less inclined
to thieve or deal or stab before he thinks?
Who knows?

Two lifers here have taught me just as much
as I’ve taught them – it’s true, we could be friends.

I knew you’d shut me up if I said this!