Three and a Cot

Three and a cot

And when I got out

I had to make it good

With Aggie

That was worse

Than being in

You ask me

She wanted to know

If I read any books inside

I told her they didn’t lock me

In a damn library

All she knows about prison

Is what she sees on tv

I tell her not all the bad stuff is true

And that there’s some bad stuff

They don’t put on tv

And the worst of the bad stuff

Is how boring it gets

Sitting on a bed

Looking up at the bottom

Of the bunk above you

Aggie asks if I thought about her a lot

And I say ‘Yes’

But really

I just thought about how when I woke up

I was going to be exactly where I was

When I went to sleep

And maybe for most people

That’s how things go

Every night

But when you grow up like I did

Sleeping in the passenger seat

Of your dad’s truck

You never knew what you were waking up to

But usually it was morning cold

The kind that finds the spot

A blanket won’t cover

The blanket in my dad’s truck

Was more like a dish towel

So I had to decide

Which part of me

Got to stay warm

During the night

Dad didn’t even get a blanket

But he said it didn’t matter

He had one of those bigass coats

That made him look like the kid from South Park

When he finally bit it

It wasn’t because of the cold

But a heart attack

After only eating at sloppy diners

For years and miles

I was eighteen

And that year was the first time
I ever got in trouble

No matter how hard

I tried to chase warm climates

The chill always caught up with me

One day I just got sick

Of not having a blanket

To keep myself warm

And some guy next to me in the shelter

Stole my dad’s coat

So I stole one of my own

And that was how it started

Two weeks later

I was doing my first eighty days

And even though

The cell smelled like piss and spunk

But the bed was warm

And I never had a warm bed before

So I was good to go

When they kicked me out

I spent two nights behind a dumpster

In the bad part of Dallas

And that was all I needed to convince me

That sometimes what you’re meant to be

Is nothing more

Than an occupier

In isolation

All that’s a nice way of saying

I was a crook

And I figured a crook

Was all I was good for

My dad was a truck driver

But after a childhood of it

I couldn’t stand the thought

Of getting behind the wheel

Never even got a license

It wasn’t until I met Aggie

That I thought I could survive

Anywhere other than

The bottom bunk

She sold me a pack of smokes

In between time spent

And right away

I knew she was

A new kind of trouble

Still not sure I belong

On the outside

But Aggie had the bed all ready for me

And I wanted to see what it felt like

To have somebody

Lying next to me

For a change