EVERY NOW AND THEN
on receiving editorial advice on 3 prison poems
Gary D. Jackson
Yes, I need to develop my writing skills.
I couldm ake the excuse that I live and write
under strocious conditions. But that
does not change anything. I guess
I am just afraid. Afrais to hope, or dream, or
believe. Afraid to want. In your letter
you spoke of “going deeper” to “where it
hurts.” Of taking more rishs. I don’t know
if I could survive it. My hold on life is
tenuous, at best. My pain is buried out of
necessity. I am a prisoner. Not allowed
to express emotion other than anger. I am
a man who tries not to “feel” anything.
Then you (a stranger), writes, and tells me to avoid
cliches, work harder, “feel” more. That hurts me.
It made me angry. Maybe it touched the truth I
hide from; it was so easy to think, “Who is this person
with the European name, obviously educated,
who thinks prisoners have computer access?
I’ve been homeless and parentless since 14;
I have an 8th grade education and a GED;
I’ve been in jail or in prison for most of the decade;
I have 58 months to go. I am watching my 30s
(my 30s!) slip away. Who is this person of wealth, priviledge,
parents, education, travel, to tell me that I need to work
on my craft, go deeper, take risks, touch my pain?”
I received a small grant from a foundation this past summer.
I used ti to submit my work to several hundred places.
The response was underwhelming. Yes, maybe I need to develop
my writing skills. Work a little harder. Dig a little deeper. Dare
to hope. Dare to believe
every now and then.
