“We live to die” a new buddy Gary says to me last night while I was walking the yard alone.
We spend our hours walking, talking. Our pain as evident as the blue sky. Our strength the ground we walk on.
This morning, after failed attempts at this blog, I’ve sat myself down in the yard at a picnic table to welcome you into my world. This world of prison, poetry & every distraction possible.
Evan & Noah, my 2 sons, nicknamed me ‘The Old Man” years ago. Their friends followed & I figure since I am & hell, what a great moniker. Evan died last year in July. He had turned 25 in June. His brother, Noah, turns 24 this July & he & Amanda (dear friend & Noah’s girlfriend) will be delivering their amazing package – gift of love within the biggest picture this October.
Kelly Conway, devoted friend, amazing human, terrific in every way, has supported me before, during trial, thru sentencing and now prison. Without her, not only would so many of my friends not know of my disappearance, my resources would be almost non-existent. Thank you Kelly.
Richard Lopez, father, poet & great guy, suggested a blog to me a while ago. I declined for the reason, simply, what’s the point? Well, incarcerated, frankly, is an amazing perspective. Richard, as Kelly, has been so supportive of my life as well as poetry.
Thank you, Richard. (http://www.reallybadmovies.blogspot.com/)
Stacy Szymaszek, buddy, fellow poet & grounder of reality has traveled this odd vacation along with Kelly & Richard. Never judging me though questioned my sanity. You will hear of Stacy often as this list of characters grows. (http://www.poetryproject.com/)
If you know thru your life, friends or family, a person imprisoned, please write to them. Frankly thru everything within the fence, the key to survival & sanity is contact with the outside world. If you need suggestions, please write to me directly in prison,
John Tyson, #511885, Oshkosh Correctional Institution, P O Box 3310, Oshkosh, WI, 54903-3310, or thru this blog. But I will say this only once – THIS IS NOT A DATING SERVICE. This is a serious service for my brothers within.
A print magazine is being organized as I write. The name – FLAGRANT (the incarcerated bastard kin of Accurate Key).
First of all, thanks to Erica Kaufman for the nudge nudge for the title. She had sent me a terrific poem using flagrant and Accurate Key is a broadside magazine of sorts in which I did 2 issues of & life’s distractions side swiped me. I will continue the Key when I am out. The need for FLAGRANT is now.
Simple challenge: Spend the day with me. Meet my friends and go listen to “Everybody Hurts” by REM. Watch the sun set in the yard. Walk with us as the moon rises in the distance.
I began with words from Gary’s mouth & I will end with some – “man drinks drink, drink drinks drink, drink drinks man.”
8 am May of 07
nor naked stranger
flopped out juxtaposed
read shirley jackson
escape the horror
become the horror.
oh, the promises i make
another day another mirage
for Richard Lopez
read kerouac wilde
nabokov in prison
toast & absinthe
acid on my sugar cube
living like a refugee
Noah to Hank III
me? i’m stuck
alchemist 2:25 am 62607
madness rarely delivers
bread becomes toast
matter of seconds.
elm, hickory, scrub
pine, to be