Poem | apocalypse training

Knew a guy,

got put in prison.

He never came out.

Not the same.

Rehabilitation,

or annihilation

and all the blame

and provocation

But in truth, first day

he heard one of the

guys high up in the ring,

cash in a bet, got one of

the twitchers to cut the throat

of the new prison warden.

He did it.

Then I got in debt; wanted cigarettes

because I hated smoking and

that’s just what I deserved

Got addicted, got in debt.

Then the boys came for me

Tip off gave away their attack

and I got put in the secure unit

with the paedophiles and rapists

Asked to be put into solitary

No

I asked very nicely.

No

Said I’d kill one of them, at random;

not premeditated.

It’s not premeditated

if it’s random.

Got the cuffs again. Took me

to the padded-walls.

It felt so good

to win.

…