The CIA Cell of Belmarsh (a stark poem)

Jude Fleming
2 min readAug 10, 2020

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October 12, 2019

road.

sidewalk.

door, big door that crashes when it closes.

locks that click

front foyer.

wait

hallway, short hallway

kiosk.

hallway

empty pockets

surrender purse, knapsack

keys that jangle onto the hard surface

surrender all belongings

no belongings

and he does not belong here.

sign in, verify who I am

metal detection

wands wave over body

a pass through, a pass over

follow the guard.

back to hallway

hard heels on a hard floor

big door, heavy door

that locks behind

click

everything echoes

follow the guard.

hallway, big door that locks behind

then outside to “court”yard

hard heels on the hard surface of the concrete and asphalt outside

pace up to yet

another door, that locks behind

lets us back in

click

follow the guard.

no small talk

it is heavy

it is no small task to see this man

that does not belong here.

click click click click click of locks and heels on hard surface

guard leads left

turn to pace down another empty hallway

with harsh lighting

and shadowed walls

doors that slam, heavy

click

he is shut up in here.

he is shut up tight.

shut. up.

more heels on hard surfaces

down another hall, and echoes

this time hearing sound from humans in a room

chairs scraping on ancient floors

everyone competing to talk louder

like 37 radio talk shows competing for volume.

there is no possibility to talk

only to see a respiradone man

wasting away, hungry

on a plastic chair

in a flourescent room

with little food

almost no sleep

no books

no laptop

no ability to defend himself.

afterwards, he returns down his hallways

on parade with his guards

winding his way back

through his doors

back into the bellows,

the bellows of belmarsh

back to his CIA cell

cell number 37 in the hospital wing

where dignity is suspended.

human rights, upended.

and time is bended.

the atrocity is not that he reported the truth

the atrocity is the truth of the deaths

of the mangled limbs

and the lost children

the manipulation of men and women into funding and executing the destruction of the planet, buildings, fields, hospitals and humans

why is he locked up?

he is no danger to society

he is no danger to society

he is no danger to society

{This is me reading my dark poem back in October 2019} http://chirb.it/z4DLBy

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