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Poetry from the Age of Mass Incarceration

Warren

I wish I could get this moan out of my throat.
Nothing soft,
nothing sexy.
A moan to hold on to,
to rock me to sleep.
Nothing warm,
no real lullaby.
A moan that steps on roaches
and pays the rent.
Not a napalm moan,
nothing that sticks to the skin.
A moan that makes babies love their Mothers.
Moan that makes beans taste like steak.
Nothing gory.
Nothing chilling.
Just a moan.

Jackie Warren. Change Chilly to Cold (1975)

Book cover: Change Chilly to Cold, poems by Jackie Warren.
Poetry from prison and other ghettos of the mind