Prison Tea Bar
Visiting time, the men sit where they are told
talk to their girlfriends, wives, and mothers.
The women come and go to the hatch
until their twenty-pound coins are gone.
Currency has never been so hard spent.
A mother asks, is there any fruit?
Her son newly sentenced.
I tell her, no. She rolls her eyes,
Is this tuna sandwich fresh? I tell her, yes.
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Rachel Burns would
be pleased to hear them.