April 05, 2004

Dear Friends:
Many of our friends are doing last minute tasks to get ready to report to prison Tuesday. If you know any of them, I encourage you to send them your love and support at this time. Last year, in the middle of the night, I was unable to sleep as some of you began your first night in prison. After beating up my pillow and bed, I got up and wrote this poem. With you, my friends, I share it. Keep our friends in your spirits.
Peace and love,
Bill Quigley

Yesterday My Friend Chose Prison
Dedicated to the SOA prisoners of conscience

Yesterday my friend walked freely into prison
Chose to violate a simple law to spotlight the evil
of death squads and villages of massacred people that we cannot even name
mothers and children and grandparents butchered buried
and forgotten by most, but not by my friend.

Yesterday my friend stepped away from loves and family and friends
was systematically stripped of everything, everything
and systematically searched everywhere, everywhere
was systematically numbered and uniformed and advised and warned
clothes and underwear and shoes and everything put in a cardboard box,
taped and mailed away

Yesterday my friend joined the people we put in the concrete and steel boxes
mothers and children and fathers that we cannot even name
in prison for using and selling drugs
in prison for trying to sneak into this country
in prison for stealing and scamming and fighting and killing
but none were there for the massacres
no generals, no politicians, no under-secretaries, no ambassadors

Yesterday my friend had on a brave face
avoiding too much eye contact with the stares of hundreds of strangers
convicts, prisoners, guards, snitches
not yet knowing good from bad
staying out of people’s business
hoping to find a small pocket of safety and kindness and trust in the
weeks ahead

Last night my friend climbed into bed in prison
an arm’s length away from the other prisoners
laying awake on the thin mattress
wondering who had slept there last
wondering how loved ones were sleeping
awake through flashlight bed checks
and never-ending noises echoing off the concrete floors and walls
some you never ever want to hear

Yesterday my friend chose prison over silence
chose to stand with the disappeared and those who never counted
chose to spend months inside hoping to change us outside
chose the chance to speak truth to power and power responded with prison
Though my heart aches for my friend in prison
no one on this planet is more free.