One Poem by Kevin Canfield

 

Prisoner of Conscience

 

Hear this as a soft rock ballad, 

midtempo, lots of keyboard

 

See this in a lurid red 

gradually drained of colour

 

Taste this as dark rum, flat beer

and sun-warmed mayonnaise

 

Feel this as an ingrown hair 

rubbing against corduroy

 

Breathe this in as kerosene 

and cherry cough drops 

 

You will never 

leave this place

Kevin Canfield is a writer in New York City.