Feeding my animal body,
I eat prisoners’ food,
listen to the warden’s drone
on static-filled speakers.
Though grown soft,
my spirit body still flies
through the barred window
catching sight of Sirius.
I hear my power
above the cell-block din:
“You have a choice!
Feed your spirit body
while you have life.”
When next the slop arrives,
I remember Geronimo
and paint my face
with the foul grease.
My war cry echoes
down rows of cages,
and in the sudden silence
they all know
I am alive.
photo – Louis MacKenzie
Reading of “War Cry” with music by Robbie Robertson.