In the Big Yard

    Reginald S. Lewis


    Rumors abound Inmate So-and-So done gotta parole date.
    Last Monday, but sucker don't even
    Know his woman done run off with "sweet Cadillac Willie"
    Who spent her
    welfare check on gasoline an' blow on a new pair of skins.
    An' that scary lil' wimp locks on B Block ain't cool, man.
    Snitched on his rap-partner 'bout that rape-kidnap-homocide-
    robbery back in '76.
    Hit goin' down in the Big Yard.
    Stay away, Homey.
    'Cause bookies layin' ten-to-one odds some lieutenant finds
    the rat with his head propped up on the end of a long shank.
    When they find the body what they do is ship it home in a
    cheap plywood box, tag with his number on it swinging list
    lessly on his big toe an' a
    "Whut have I done to deserve this?" look on his dumb ugly
    face.
    Other day seen new blood shambling through
    the reception gate talking loud an' all cocky like he Mr. T.
    So a big mean lookin' con doin' life for
    mutilating his pregnant wife walks boldly up to Young-
    blood an'
    whispers somethin' soft an' sweet to 'im an' next day Young-
    blood's lips are
    red an' glossy an'
    his hair is long an' straight an' he's switchin' 'round the Big
    Yard
    Like he Diana Ross
    An' the big con man says, "Hot young punk for sale, y'all!"
    Squinting into the sun, Old Man "Pops" say he been down so
    long he done lost count.
    "Kinda git used to it afta while, son," Pops says: the big time
    hoods an' their paper Cadillacs on cruise control.
    The Hos on the stroll down the endless lightless white-clay
    strip.
    Crack junkies chillin' out on smoke-marshmallow clouds.
    Pseudointellectuals over there rappin' about the struggle.
    An' the hapless chorus of crooners tryin' to sound like the
    Temptations.
    Pops says he don't pay 'im
    no mind an' he ain't listenin'
    Don't even care 'bout nothin' cause he ain't neva had a woman
    noway.
    Old bones runs the Big Yard through
    Chugging along like a locomotive that neva stops.
    Runs all day long-
    Bookies layin' ten-to-one odds old Pops plannin' to fly right
    over the big wall.

    1988, State Correctional Institution
    Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania