Zombies in the house of madness floating
floating on a cloud of sickness sickness
not theirs but the system's yet float
these zombies on this cloud
perpetual day to day to day
Continue reading on www.youtube.com
On his work with the Prison Story Project, Matt Henriksen once said: “Regardless of our pasts or your pasts and regardless of those walls, we can meet in the space words create and share stories and ideas. We bring our story-telling-know-how to you and bring your visions of the world back to us.” As I reflect back on Matt’s legacy of advocacy for the incarcerated, and the poetry we shared over time, his presence feels deeply connected to my own growth as a reader & writer contemplating justice within the creative word. Over recent months, I have found myself turning or returning to each of these poems as I deepen my understanding of the prison industrial complex and the necessity of abolition. In August 2020, after another psychotic break, I found myself turning to poetry & mad survivor narratives to make sense of my own lived experiences, standing on the bridge between disability justice & abolition. A few months back, I stumbled upon “Zombies in a House of Madness” in an old 1970’s copy of Madness Network News Reader, & have been both haunted and comforted by the legacy of Michael Beasley as a poet and abolitionist before my time. I was enamored by Beasley’s reach—from a short film of his poem by Saul Landau within San Francisco Jail, to a musical collaboration with singer/songwriter Country Joe McDonald, Beasley’s connections to others begin within and move beyond the prison’s walls. Each poem in this playlist speaks back to what I see in Michael Beasley’s work, and has been in my ear as I think through the necessity of disability justice, mad narratives, intersectional movements, and our call to abolition.
I want to go home, Patricia whispered.
I won't say I like being in prison, but I have
learned a lot, and I like experiences. The terriblest part is being away from your families.—Juanita
I miss my screenporch.
I know every word to every song on Purple Rain.—Willie
I'm never leaving here.—Grasshopper, in front of the woodshop, posing beside a coffin he built
This is a kicks' camp. Nothing positive come out of here except the praying. Never been around this many women in my life. Never picked up cursing before.—down for manslaughter, forty years
I've got three. One's seven. One, four. One, one. I'm twenty-three. The way I found out is, I was in an accident with my brother. He was looking at some boys playing ball. We had a head-on.
At the hospital, the doctor says, Miss, why didn't you tell us you were pregnant. I'm pregnant? I wasn't afraid of my mama. I was afraid of my daddy. I was supposed to be a virgin. He took it real good though.
The last time you was here I had a headful of bees.
See what I did was, I accidentally killed my brother.
He spoke without inflection.
Asked how many brothers and sisters did he have—
On my mother's side, two brothers, well now, one brother, and two sisters. On my father's side, fifteen sisters.
When I handed Franklin his prints, his face broke. Damn, he said to no one, I done got old.
I kept a dog.
When you walk through Capricorn, keep your arms down and close to your body.
That's my sign.
No, she can't have no mattress. No, she can't have no spoon. See if she throwed her food yet.
No, she can't have no more.
I am only about thirty-four minutes from home. That's hard. —George, field line seated on a bag of peas on a flatbed
My auntie works here, and two of my cousins. If I get in trouble, get a write-up, my mama knows before supper.—George
My name is Patricia, but my real name is Zabonia, she spoke softly.
Some have their baby and are brought back on the bus the next day and act like it doesn't bother them a bit. Some cry all the way. And for days.—guard
That's hard. I don't go there.
My mama was fifteen when she had me. That's common. in the country.
Some can learn, and will be okay. Some could stay in the class forever and not learn. S── when she was a little girl was struck in the head with a machete, and I don't think she'll learn much more...
She is so sweet. You wouldn't believe she had did all the things they say she did.
Don't ask.
My mug shot totally turned me against being photographed.
I miss the moon. I miss silverware, with a knife, and maybe even something to cut with it.
I miss a bathtub. And a toilet. With a lid. And a handle. And a door.
When Grasshopper came to Big Gola his wife was pregnant. He saw the baby once. Next when he was twenty. Now he's inside. In Texas. Second time. But he's short now. He'll get out soon.
That's hard. I don't go there.
I miss driving.
We're both here because of love.—Zabonia of herself and her best friend
I am highly hypnotizable.
I would wash that man's feet and drink the water.
Esther say I drink too much. Mama say pray don't think too much. My shrink he say I feel too much, And the cops say I steal too much; Social Workers say I miss my Daddy too much, That I dream of driving a Caddy too much. White folks say I'm lazy and late too much, Not objective—depend on fate too much. Philosophers say I wanna BE too much. Reagan say I talk about me too much, Singing songs ‘bout being free too much.
I say—sing about me being free too much? Say sing about me being free too much?
Night Music Slanted Light strike the cave of sleep. I alone tread the red circle and twist the space with speech Come now, etheridge, don't be a savior; take your words and scrape the sky, shake rain on the desert, sprinkle salt on the tail of a girl, can there anything good come out of prison
[A LIST OF THINGS REMEMBERED AS I REMEMBERED THEM AND IN NO WAY TO BE TAKEN AS A COMPLETE ACCOUNT OF WHAT HAPPENED THERE THEN OR WHAT IS HAPPENING THERE NOW]
I was detained approximately 54 hours, 47 of which I spent in jail.
I spent 47 hours under bright fluorescent lights.
I was cold approximately 43 hours.
I was moved 7 times, to 5 different “tanks.”
I spent no more than 15 hours in a tank near a door with a small rectangle of glass through which 21 women and then 27 women could see barbed wire and light then dark outside.
I was fed 6 times—5 “sack lunches” which included 2 slices of stale bread, 2 slices of slimy bologna, 2 crème cookies soaked in bologna juice, 1 packet of “salad dressing” (mayo), 1 packet of mustard, 1 packet of a “calcium mix” and 1 orange; and 1 “hot meal,” which included maybe turkey & definitely beans, a side of cooked carrots, some sauce, a salad, a cube of cornbread and a cube of cake.
I used a toilet no more than 5 times.
I slept no more than 4 hours.
I was denied birth control.
I heard someone with epilepsy was being denied medication.
I met 2 people with serious illnesses who were denied medication.
I watched 2 people go through withdrawal.
I watched 1 woman use 1 toilet at least 10 times in no more than 2 hours.
I spoke to 1 woman who confessed she was having suicidal thoughts.
I gave 1 back rub.
I received 0 back rubs.
I spoke to 3 people on “the outside:”
I spoke to 3 “trustees.”
I spooned 3 women.
I spooned 1 woman I had known previously.
I saw 2 women volunteer to stay inside longer to make sure 2 more women wouldn’t be left alone in their respective tanks.
I saw 1 woman refuse release to make sure her friend would have a friend in the tank.
I met 1 woman with an “Abortions Get Babies to Heaven Faster” fanny pack she likes to wear when she visits Texas.
I saw 5 slices of bologna stick to a white wall.
I heard harmonizing coming from a tank 2 times.
I heard 1 person recite 1 poem to 2 pigs.
I heard I had 1 welt on my back.
I saw at least 5 bruises on each wrist.
I heard 1 woman suggest not admitting injury unless it was severe.
I met 2 women who chose not to report feeling ill for fear of being put in solitary confinement.
I met 1 woman who had been released from Santa Rita no more than 2 days before.
I crushed on 1 woman.
I was 1 of at least 5 women crushing on 1 woman.
I met at least 1 woman in a polyamorous relationship.
I met at least 1 woman who had recently had sex in the woods.
I met at least 1 woman who had recently had sex in a dressing room.
I met 1 woman who suggested we start a website to replace the #OO camp.
I met 3 women who were still in high school.
I had at least 5 pigs completely ignore me.
I heard at least 5 pigs lie at least 5 times.
I heard 1 pig compare the impact of the people the pigs had to process on “the system” to 400 marbles going down a drain 3 times.
I heard 1 woman praying.
I saw one appeal to “the Virgin” scratched into the wall of a tank.
I heard 2 women were put in solitary confinement.
I heard 1 woman was put in solitary confinement for scratching a word into the wall of a tank.
I saw “OCCUPY” scratched into the wall of a tank.
I heard 1 woman was placed in solitary confinement for banging on the door of a tank to get a pig’s attention.
I saw at least 2 women kick the door of a tank at least 5 times in a row.
I saw 1 woman be forced into a tank.
I heard 1 pair of cuffs.
I heard 1 pig tell 1 woman if she had a problem with not getting a phone call she should call her lawyer.
I heard 1 pig say, “This isn’t about the constitution…If I don’t like your face…”
I heard 1 man banging on the door of his tank.
I heard 1 pig tell 1 trustee not to answer my question.
I met 2 women who requested that NLG contact their employers to let them know they would not be making it to work.
I met 2 women who were worried their arrest would lead to them losing their job.
I met 1 woman who lost her job as a union organizer when she was a “no show” after being arrested at a demonstration.
I met 1 woman who works as a union organizer.
I met 1 woman who works in San Francisco’s Financial District.
I met 1 woman who can “crack” a house.
I met 1 woman with family in Spain.
I met 1 woman who teaches elementary.
I met 1 woman who said the games the pigs were playing with us were the same ones she plays with her kids.
I met 1 woman who teaches yoga.
I met 2 women who worried their car would be towed.
I met 1 woman who worried her boyfriend would forget to pay her parking ticket.
I met 1 woman whose boyfriend runs a comic book store.
I met 1 woman whose mother had bailed out Huey Newton.
I met at least 2 women who were afraid they wouldn’t be able to get into a college class.
I met at least 3 women who were menstruating.
Bridesmaids came up 1 time.
I was 1 of at least 2 women who had seen Bridesmaids
Kreayshawn’s “Gucci Gucci” came up 1 time.
I heard 1 woman sing, “One big room / full of bad bitches.”
Aquaman came up 1 time.
I saw at least 5 drops of fresh blood on the floor in the hall.
I saw at least 7 spots of dried blood on the wall of a tank.
I heard the riddle “What is brown and sticky?” 2 times.
I saw at least 15 wads of wet toilet paper stick to the air vents of 3 tanks.
I watched 4 women throw wads of wet toilet paper at the air vents of 3 tanks.
I heard 1 woman admit she was waiting to be released to take a “victory poop.”
Khali came up at least 5 times.
“The 99%” came up 1 time.
I heard 1 pig call herself part of the 99%.
I heard 1 pig say the system had crashed, that we’d be inside at least 48 more hours, after we’d been detained 52.
I heard 1 pig threaten a mentally ill man.
I heard 1 pig make fun of a woman praying.
Dante’s Inferno came up 1 time.
“Why am I being detained?” was chanted at least 10 ten times.
“Phone call!” was chanted at least 20 times.
“From Oakland to Greece, no pads no peace!” was chanted at least 10 times.
The Diva Cup came up 2 times.
I heard 1 woman call the inmates who worked at the jail “trustees.”
I saw 13 people I’d previously met inside.
I saw 3 people without shoes.
I saw 2 people in “protective custody.”
I saw 2 bologna faces.
Staying positive was equated with preparing for a class action lawsuit at least 3 times.
for Layleen Cubilette-Polanco Xtravaganza
The New York City Council will pass a package of legislation,
expanding services for transgender, gender-nonconforming,
non-binary, and intersex inmates will turn out its pockets,
never sign another ransom note
All officers with trans inmates in their custody will undergo
a competency training will have their badge numbers
etched off with diamond-tipped acrylics, aquamarine
New beds will be added to the transgender housing unit
beds of wildflowers will erupt from lots that were not
vacant, just holding their breath
Counselors will be made available to all trans inmates we
are each our sister’s counsel
The Board of Correction will convene a task force will
be tasked with something useful, like beekeeping, or collecting
rainwater
Sex workers will have their cases diverted to Human Sex
Tracking Intervention Court will spray paint the words
“we are the intervention” on the courthouse rubble
The Rikers Island compound will be replaced by a series of
smaller, borough-based facilities will slip into the rising
Atlantic, the ribs of our dead prepared to cage it
Trans elders will be held in solitary confinement for their
own safety will have their charcoal locs retwisted in
chosen hands
This legislation will take effect in the summer of 2020
we have never asked permission to sing