kara, scabs & a 1,000 crabs
By: Plod - Poetry Life Or Death
Tags: Fiction, Prison, Mass Incarceration, Prison Reform, Legal Services

by brian knippers (aka bigdaddynipps)

it appeared overnight

what a wicked bad sight

little tiny red dot of pain

this hurt and be-came

in a strange way

more intense than usual

a throbbing

pulsing

hurt…

I ignored it

like a “real man”

a week later

I was wearing

satan’s doorknocker

on my shin

oozing

deep green-yellow mucus puss

gelatinous goop

spewing forth

from this cavernous hole

dark, horrofic, smells like rot

depths of hell

a dialogue of suffering ensued

today’s bleed

yesterday’s growth

watching this bump

rise big

bigger

really, really, really fucking big

pointing to an angry red welt

every time I approach

the med-window

where they serve

medication

drive-thru style

on our unit

med-assistants

men & woman

told me

hey, that’s nothing to worry about

one guy laughed at me

it’ll go away in a few days

chuck, chuck, chuck, he said

they turned a blind eye

“now serving 54”

trained avoidance

just give em’ a couple ibuprophen

push em’ through

medical meat grinder of the M-DOC

M-DOC = Massachusett’s Department of Corrections

health services department

has been in official

“cost cutting mode”

since hiring a private corporation

to manage healthcare

that “corporation” that won the contract

put out a bid for contract

and hired a subcontractor to manage

“health services”

and the subcontractor then signed a

subsidiary

to manage health services onsite

at all levels

corporation down

the goal’s to cut costs

corporation to subcontractor to subsidiary

cut costs

with finger after finger in the pie

the differential

ends up a bottom line adjustment

paid to the corporation

money peeled directly out of healthcare services

those formerly managing were to lazy to do their jobs

effectively

looking back

you could’ve probably hired

several more full-time workers

to handle administrative tasks

but why bother

right?

it’s only a bunch of taxpayers

and inmates

getting screwed

who cares?

medical care

falls into the hands

of a corporation’s subcontractor’s subsidiary

that’s who we rely on

for our medical well being

a corporation

that only cares about cutting costs

hits an agreed upon bottom line metric

earns a bonus

oversees nothing

this publicly traded company

currently trading for around $75 per share

that does quite well

at the expense of incarcerated human beings

insuring we don’t receive proper medication

ensuring medications don’t come on a timely basis

guaranteeing 90% of all requested procedures are denied

knee, hip & shoulder surgeries are now considered cosmetic

we’re all taking either generic or experimental medication

and all this is nothing but laughable

cut costs

at all costs

no matter what

and then

cut more

we don’t care if they suffer

you should never have to argue

over

whether a cut on your finger justifies

a band-aid

or an aspirin

for your headache

but these arguments happen daily

at our drive-thru medication window

a lot-lot lot-lot

a nurse

one I’m friendly with

at least I’m always polite to her

she’s polite to me

and once in a while

we share a laugh

well

she

threw a heroic pigskin

hail mary some call it

downfield

and that fucking ball flew

suddenly

I was scheduled to see

a doctor

satan’s doorknocker

which had reared its ugly head

finally reached

grapefruit proportions

now necessitated

an

emergency consultation

I limped to hsu

barely avoiding amputation

possible gangrene

who knows

I’m exaggerating slightly

but that fucker was big

no joke

the doctor said

admit him

immediately

and I

reluctantly

agreed

to

be locked

in a room

in the most

boring place on earth

the h — s

fucking — u

health — services — unit

then the doc

turned to me

and said

why didn’t you report this sooner

the nerve of these people

I was thus delivered

into the open arms

of Souza-Bee’s healing angels

such is the aplomb

of my confidence

shyness

need not apply

confidence has always been here

part of the nip-tude

I was born with

you see…

some people got it

and others, well

so…

they

these angelic ladies

wafting of lovely variants such as

rosemary, honeysuckle, jasmine and daffodils

wandered into my room

with the grace of a group of wild cats

and the beauty of swans gliding across the water

charismatic

and

oh, so lovely!

these

land based female figure skaters

looked at me

with

Big (woman) Eyes!

like the paintings

told me

in earnest

brian

we’re sorry we have to be the ones to tell you this

and I said

it’s okay angels

an they said

well, there’s no easy way to say this

your leg’s infected

and that’s when I snapped out of my daze

pain nestled itself inside my head

layers and layers of pain

contorting my face

I felt nauseous

overcome by waves of discomfort

stopping up my nose

so I couldn’t breathe

then there was

irritation

itching

in my eyes

temporarily blinding me

shine-throbbing

I could feel my pulse

blocking my ears

pain and simple

ungodly quantities

of pain

the qualities of which

are all consuming

all knowing

ouch!

similar to fat kids

hosting

a fat kid’s breakfast birthday party

french toast, eggs, sausage, bacon, homefries & grits

maple syrup smiles

leaking out of mouths stuffed with food

brown sugar dripping

strings of syrup dangling from third chins

a buffet of

“buffalo proportion”

well

I unduly struggle

with all-you-can-eat

pain

my left leg

becomes

the angriest red devil

ten minute’s to pre-eruption

krakatoa panic

hit me

punch me

but on occasion

a bevvy of beautiful sirens

would find their way into #6,134

they would sing me

their songs

change my dressing

blink

long & lovely lashes

tell me I was going to be alright

coo me back into blissful serenenity

and

ahhhhhhhh

but and however

this damn infection

kept

bowling me over

lucifer’s fist

hammering down

upon my leg

so angry

thoughts of old women’s feet

creep towards my mind

old woman

working

her once was

father’s

now her’s

diner

breakfast mostly

and some lunch

for

72 years

standing on

blisters

healed upon scars

of old blisters

which are based

upon

a foundation

of

more blisters

saying, “would ya’ like another cup, sweetie?”

with a doll’s smile

on her fake fucking face

while thinking to herself

I’d like to stove this fucker’s head in with a shovel

6 bags of antibiotics

pumped and dumped

inside me

every-day

pause

repeat

they put me beside

the back

door

cell #6,134

that slams shut

bang!

391 times a day

“back door”

loud buzzing

creaky hinge

sound of large metal door opening

pause

hold it

hold it

gaining momentum…

SLAM!!!

drip 6am

SLAM!!!

drip 8am

SLAM!!!

drip 12pm

SLAM!!!

6pm

SLAM!!!

8pm

SLAM!!!

12am

SLAM!!!

3am

SLAM!!!

I felt like a mother

nursing starving sextuplets

wwaaaaaaa!!

swish

gargle

spit

repeat

it’s the routine that kills ya’

smother my shin in shea butter & goat shite!!

my wound festers

all over

skin pops and breaks

being roasted over the open flames

I’d rather die

.45 caliber bullet

teflon tip

temple shot

or

midway up

lower half

left front leg

point

BLAM!!!

shin shot bitches!!

that’ll drain the infection

I finally fall asleep

my buddy brings me ear buds

flex

pain

heel turn

pain

toe-in

pain

ride the ramp

720 mctwist

frosty calm with a tail grab

the first

snowboardin’ dream

I ever had in prison

wipe out

yard sale

bounce on that mogul

right there

wake up

after

accidentally kicking the arm rail on the bed

right on the shin

right on my wound

pain throttles me

puss & blood begins to ooze

through my bandage

I scream

aaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!

pain level 16+

eruption

how it all

went down

down

unremitting pain

screaming

sailor’s curses

you %$#@! #?+@% #?@%&

in cell #6,134

unconsciousness takes hold of me

once unconscious

here’s what I believe happened to me

first, the goon squad

smuggled me out “the joint”

dragged against my will to a

toxic waste deposit site

cut off the bandage and opened up my wound

with a

rusty viet-cong jungle blade

contaminated with

deep jungle-rot infection virus

that turns wounds green

unless you’re back in the nam

then it turns that shit black

koko

flown to japan

leg submerged

nuclear power plant outflow

glowing neon sludge

24 to 48 hours

wake up in cell #6,134

surrounded by toxic rats

gnawing through steel

and singing show tunes

realize I’m hallucinating

they give me more drugs

ahhhhhhhh…

I pass out again and after count

I’m smuggled back out of the prison

to a small island monastery in sardinia

once they had me doped up

and

isolated

at their mediterranean somewhere

they allowed the monks

to practice

13th century

medieval quackery

on my ass

wound scrubbed clean

with a rag

made from sheep intestines

dipped in

baby urine

once clean the monks rub in

fresh cow feces

the scatter bone dust on the cow shit

they wrap the would with a bandage

taken from the shrine

of saint osferth

patron saint of goose shit

also

saint of further infecting

horribly painful swollen infections

does this convict (inmate)

die a martyr Bob?

no jim

not today

but we’ve got some great parting gift’s for that scumbag

black death!

circa 1283

and now

11/19/18

SBCC style

however,

for unexplainable reasons

that is

reasons yet to be explained

with all preoccupations considered

being told regularly

to wipe my ass

and

cleanse the wound

aka

infection

I was questioned about how

the infection-wound developed

in this sterile

hygienic

perfectly clean

freshly scrubbed

prison environs

come now

he said

be serious

did you shoot up?

are you a dope user?

I said

is this a bad dream

and

he said

what?

what did YOU do?

it has to be YOUR fault

why didn’t you mention it

SOONER

this must be your fault

how could we

in this dirty, filthy, stinking, shithole

have anything to do

anything at all

with this infection?

yes

you’re 20,000,000 percent

more likely

to get an infection

in prison

and no

I’ve never tried heroine doc

but

he says

you don’t shower

three times a day

it’s your fault

and I say

doc

you’re right

as always

all inmates are idiots & liars after all

just ask any correctional officer

they’d love to tell you what kind of maggots

they babysit

unless

of course

they’re to busy

watching

well

whatever they watch

right?