Flora Reform

We gather in prisons
where the buildings’ resistance goes 
unheard.

We sit
criss
cross
applesauce 
and look at microscope slides
of the illicit: 
unnamed pigment, 
smudge of graphite left by the artist
we all hope to become
and the latest love
of the DEA. 

We bring dried tulips
to dress up the homes 
of the caged. 
there’s something about 
the way they 
hang 
the prisoners
dream of the days 
on the gallows.

On Thursdays, we bring them daffodils 
and peonies, fresh. 
Some petals we sneak 
back to our soft houses, 
where we place them in pipes,
inhale,
and pray for peace.


Illustration by Simone Hadebe