CRUEL AND UNUSUAL

by Gil Hoy



A divided Supreme Court on Monday turned aside claims by death-row inmates that a drug to be used in their executions would lead to an unconstitutional level of suffering, a narrow but unequivocal ruling that made clear that states have leeway in carrying out the death penalty. —Wshington Post, June 29, 2015

"I would ask ... a more basic question:whether the death penalty violates the Constitution."--Justice Stephen Breyer in his dissent

Are some men
born evil,

and others
born good?

As some men
have brown eyes,

and others
have blue?

As some
are born weak,

and others
born strong?


Gil Hoy is a Boston trial lawyer, who first studied poetry at Boston University while receiving a B.A. in Philosophy and Political Science. Gil started writing his own poetry last year. Since then, his poems have been published most recently in The Potomac, The New Verse News, The Antarctica Journal, Third Wednesday, and To Hold A Moment Still, Harbinger Asylum’s 2014 Holidays Anthology.

WARDEN, MURDER ME

by Allyson Whipple

The following is a found poem based on “Last Words of the Condemned” by Celina Fang, Manny Fernandez, Amy Padnani and Ashwin Seshagiri in The New York Times, June 29, 2013.

Photos provided to the Times by the Texas Department of Criminal Justice.

I.

I wish I could die more than once

            to tell you how sorry I am.

I am the sinner of all sinners.

I deserve this.

            Tell everyone

                        I said goodbye.

Let’s roll. Lord Jesus

            receive my spirit.

I love all those on Death row.

            I will always hold them

                        in my hands.

II.

No one wins tonight.

            They are killing me tonight.

No one gets closure.

            They are murdering me tonight.

No one walks away victorious.

Let’s do it, man.

            Lock and load.

                        Ain’t life a bitch.

III.

Bury me deep, lay two speakers

            at my feet,

put some headphones on my head,

            rock and roll me when I’m dead.

I walked in here

            like a man.

I am leaving

            like a man.

It’s a good day to die.

I can feel it,

taste it,

not bad.

Allyson Whipple is the director of the Austin Feminist Poetry Festival and the author of We're Smaller Than We Think We Are (Finishing Line Press). Her work has most recently appeared in the 2014 Texas Poetry Calendar.