On the other side of the fence it grows

On the other side of the fence it grows

out of the reach of my hand & nose

free to be as lovely as it intends

free to be with its flower friends

Not to be killed inside this cage

such enchantments would be a waste

Never seen such a blue, defying hate

just by existing

fed by the sun it feeds my being

sometimes being happy feels like treason

your petals offer one more reason

to not break down or fold so easy

life would be such a cake

the day I awake

on the same side as my friends

we’ll both rise up in defiance

on that day

Mail is making it through!

Eric is over the moon having his mail back and hearing from his friends! It’s making him feel so strong and ready to win in March and end this three and a half years of hell. Sitting indefinitely in segregation can really throw a wrench in the trial prep machine. It wasn’t until a year and a half in that he even had his glasses. He survived 18 months of communication restrictions. He survived so so much thrown his way. But beyond survival he is ready to dominate in March when he gets to finally have his trial. He wanted to send everyone love and thanks 🖤 and sat he is thrilled to hear from everyone.

Eric King 27090045

FCI Englewood

9595 w Quincy Ave

Littleton Co 80123

Trial is March 14th

This Vile Institution

I have the blues like a dead man’s lips

This vile institution

Serving your cereal with a cup of warm piss

they’ll teach me a lesson

If only my cold shoulder didn’t come with a chip

for all my treason

maybe my life was a failure, but it felt like a gift

the dementor is freezing

I’m a thorn bush that needs to be clipped

Our Getaway

With a shovel and a dream

I begin heading your way

The ground is cold and hard

and inclined to budge

But we fight it, we fight hard

and we fight the calendar

We’re expected to break

to throw in every towel

Our muscles are aching

Sore but not breaking

Meet in the middle

We’ll help each other to escape

To flee society and heartbreak

Together we’ll tunnel out of this pain

and nothing will stop our getaway

“They forgot we were earthworms”

They tried to bury us

They forgot we were earthworms

Eating out their rotten brains

And shitting out their undigestible’s

that we were fucking shovels

just ‘cause someone throws dirt on you

doesn’t mean you can’t throw

That shit right off

that we were landmines

waiting for one, wrong, cocky misstep

To bring them to their knees

and send their knees into the trees

that we were fucking zombies

we’d keep rising up

‘cause we didn’t crave brains

we craved freedom

that we didn’t mind the underground

away from their laws and harsh glares

that we were Prairie dogs

digging tunnels and spending all day

just barking and talking shit

when we see the Hawks come in

we’ll scamper for a minute

that we’re already dirt

full of the goddess energy

giving life to vibrant communities

we’ll gladly share the world

with pretty flowers and tickley bugs

that we do what we want

like our mothers and fathers before us

we don’t wave the flag

and say surrender

because the enemy tells us

“the fight is over”

“Circumstances “

We are not victims of our circumstances

We are the victors over them


gave us thin ice

and heavy skates

took our families and morphed them

into something horrific

Gave us cold nights

And thin blankets

no heat,

but rocket launchers

We have hearts that fed beatings

and eyes that can’t look away

and lots of time to think about it

We found the will to fight

so it gave us an enemy that can’t die

gave us eyes to read

letters of heartbreaking sorrow

Circumstances gave us rotting logs to make homes

then laughed a the tornadoes

taught us to count

so we’d know just how much we didn’t have

Circumstances took our food to make us weak

but we stayed strong

tried to ice out our hearts

but we stayed warm

Circumstances tried to plant seeds of fear

but we grew brave

and found the courage to love those

whom others couldn’t


Wish I could write poems about owls

but what do I know

They sure are cute when young

unless you are a mouse they want

Sitting like time passing under a harvest moon

head saying no to every question

even the ones we haven’t asked

Are you wise or am I a fool?

share your wisdom mystical ass

Crouched under your tree

sticks digging like miners into my bare feet

Why have you not written a poem about me?

Eric’s Mail Ban Lifted

Erics mail ban is over (for now) so please write him if you can.

He would love to hear from people.

It has been quite some time since he was able to receive letters from people outside his immediate family. (We have no idea whether there will be another mail ban).

Please do not talk about his case and be mindful, that all letters are read by prison officials and potentially scanned/saved.


Eric King #27090-045

FCI Englewood

9595 West Quincy Avenue

Littleton, CO 80123

Eric has a wishlist for books. You can order books for me at tiny.cc/EK_Books :

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Tight ropes, taut lines

In the past three plus years I’ve been in the SHU (segregated housing unit), I’ve been directly aware of nine hangings. That is, occurred either on my range, in my cell, or near enough that I could hear the body hit the ground. Some of these were “cries for help”, some were serious, all were scarring and devastating. Almost always BOP staff hides behind either indifference towards our lives, or bureaucratic policy to avoid actually helping… at USP Atlanta they rushed in and yanked the prisoner down (by the legs), slapping them, yelling to “be a man, not a bitch!” at other institutions they laugh, yelling to quit faking. 

Two years ago here at Englewood Levi hung up, and it took minutes before his door was opened… The guards who cared (there were a few), hamstrung by the policies they were too worried to violate. While some officers were distraught, others laughed calling Levi a “Turkish piñata”… rage swelling in my chest seeing how a desperate death could be mocked and belittled… at that time in the SHU we were not allowed radios, newspapers, magazines or personal books. We were told to deal with it “don’t come to SHU if you can’t handle it”. Neverminded the fact that for some..  the SHU came to us, we could not avoid it, escape it, work our way out. You handle it or become a “piñata”.  

A few nights ago, Englewood’s evening staff displayed its humanity and treated a human life like a human life. My next door neighbor hung from his sprinkler, his awoken cellt lifting up his legs to relieve the pressure, screaming for help… and it came…the C.O’s Rushing in to get him down, the Lieutenant wasting no time, there would be no Levi repeat. Bravo really. 

 Despite this redeeming display, there will be more acts of desperation because being in the SHU pretrial is an exhausting, deeply desperate situation. We are allowed radios (if you have $70 to spend), you can have reading material mailed in (if you have people to do it) but those things mean little in the late of the night, these tiny 6×8 noise boxes allow little comfort, yet plenty of despair. People who suffer withdrawal while the pharmacist refuses to institute the MAT  program ). People suffer anxiety, anger, migraines after losing access to coffee cold turkey, we suffer the loss of loving contact, going months or years being denied physical contact with our families during the most stressful periods of our lives. We still only see one hour outside a day, pacing around in a degrading dog kennel, most still only get one 15 minute phone call a week. My visiting situation is better than most (after a year plus during the pandemic with no visits or calls I have For the last couple months been allowed 1 hour visit a week) while the phone situation is worse… but for me right now visits>calls.  

The first time in my bid I can say that it isn’t even the staff that are the issue, back here right now we are being treated more decent, often guards will go out of their way to be respectful. The major issue is they are also constrained by policies. Personnel isn’t the problem, policy is the problem, the SHU is the problem. The bureau leadership and policies they author. The problems are limitless… the lack of information, the once a week chance to get any news only to be told “nothing”, the stress of trying to fight your case with drastically limited access to your legal team (and family and friends), the constant noise that refutes any hopes of thinking clearly for a minute, the being stuck and knowing all the kindness or good behavior in the world won’t open that door. That combination would break the strongest back and it often does. 

This (FCI Englewood) is the “easiest” SHU possible, and people still hang here, because even the softest SHU is a soul crippling death trap… we still have to beg and plead for medical attention, we still sleep directly next to our toilets… we still can’t hug or kiss our families. We are stuck.. long-term segregation must be abolished, the people who are chosen to write policies should not exist unchecked and have limitless ways to torture at their disposal, non-contact visits must be reverted back to contact, basic comforts like real hygiene and coffee must be allowed for purchase, access to information and those who have it must be increased. We need out of these cages. 

Abolish the SHU, abolish state domination.  

Anarchy Always (A)