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In response to my family’s worries of surviving covid in prison:

I am alive and well, although real life
is adjacent to where I reside.
A boundary that distorts one’s visions at times.
I shall survive and thrive.
I am in fate’s domain, a detour of
bewildering burdens that I am not
to comprehend at times.
Survive and thrive, a trait no doubt
bestowed to entertain the fates.

For my dad’s 60th birthday:

Thirst

Our thirst for wine
Once quenched
We’ve become somber

Our desire for knowledge
Once acquired
Intoxication

Earthly herbs aroma
Stellar scents of dust
Yet experienced

My Pain

Yesterday’s culprit, tomorrow’s stain, deep searing pains
Guilt, sorrow – sculpt my chains
Harsh and cruel upon a spirit
Piercing one’s dreams
A caustic deed to redeem
Costly treasure, redemption indeed
Forsaken – a soul in need
Is atonement creed
Revelations awaken to take and gain
Salvations ache and distress
Today’s treacherous caress
My stain
My chain
My pain

📬

These stories arrive by mail.

Every month, a physical envelope arrives at your door, postmarked from San Quentin Village, California. Inside, you will find original artwork, writing, and recipes from real contributors, along with a personal letter from me, Diane Kahn, founder of Humans of San Quentin, about the people who made them. You read it. You keep it.

Every piece comes from someone serving a sentence. Every piece reminds you they are so much more than that.

📬 Join the Mail Club

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