Untitled (The River Runs Yellow, August 2015)
The River ran Yellow in Colorado
When the river ran yellow past
The outfitter’s shack, kayaks lined up
Colorful, in Back
They could smell it coming first
Loaded with silt and clouds of poison
A heavy-hearted river full of sighs
Something rotten in the Animas
And coming downstream fast
The rainbow trout winking out like stars at dawn
And all the apocolyptic chemistry
Cascading and assailing invisibilia,
The magic microscopic lego-like pieces upon which
Everything is built
Begins a domino affect
A yellow light means caution, a warning
But Gold is King
So we careen through our intersection
With the world
Like a drunken teen in someone else’s car
Will we beat the light this time,
Or be hit by natural consequences?
Brace yourselves for impact
Untitled (August 2015)
Me, I’m Not
You , my friend, are a winner!
Ding, ding, ding
Happy happenstance in the living lottery
Genetically consistent maybe
Or just expected features
Yes, save that ticket, and no regrets
Watch local programming to see if
Circumstance graces your appropriate presentation,
and properly apportioned face
With its geranium kiss
At home in the temple of the soul
In fellowship, a member
Of the congregation at last
But me, I’m not
I’m just the beggar on the outside steps
Making everyone uncomfortable
So drop a coin in my bowl and meet my eye (I)
As you pass by
(and I do not)
Some of Marius’ friends and supporters are working on this great project:
The Human Rights Defense Center’s Prison Ecology Project is creating tools to dismantle toxic prisons; focused on the intersection of environment degradation and mass incarceration.
Thanks to some wonderful people on the West Coast we finally have new Marius Mason t-shirts!
T-shirts can be ordered by emailing uncontrollableandfree at gmail dot com. Shirts currently come in black, grey, and hot pink in sizes YXL to XXL. Sliding scale $10-15 plus shipping costs, payment will be possible via paypal, money order, or well-concealed cash. Let us know if you want one for yourself or a bunch for an event or infoshop in your neighborhood.
We have good news! Marius was transferred out of the SHU (or Special Housing Unit) on Saturday, August 1st, after nearly a month and a half of solitary confinement.
At this time, we do not know how the alleged violation cited by prison officials as the basis for his punishment will affect Marius in the long term, but we do know that in addition to the time he spent in the SHU, more restrictions have been placed on him that further limit his already limited life in the Administration Unit at the Federal Medical Center Carswell in Fort Worth, Texas.
While we are overjoyed that Marius is out of the terrible and dispiriting world of solitary confinement, we cannot forget where Marius is—prison. The Administration Unit at Carswell is gymnasium-sized, holds up to 20 prisoners, and is frequently and unpredictably locked down for hours on end due to violence and suicide attempts resulting from the claustrophobic and oppressive conditions.
We urge all of you to write Marius a letter or drop a line with a postcard. Your solidarity matters!
M Mason #04672-061
Federal Medical Center
P.O. Box 27137
Fort Worth, TX 76127
We are pleased to announce the opening of the “Marius Mason Wing” at the Lucy Parsons Library, a radical lending library located at The Base, an anarchist social center in Brooklyn, NY.
Marius read these books in prison and wanted to share them with other activists. Thanks to the fine folks at The Base, these books are available to everyone for free—all you need is a Lucy Parsons Library card! We encourage everyone to check out these books and to write Marius afterward with your thoughts!
“We have fed you all for a thousand years,
And you hail us still unfed…” these
Stark words of the old Wobbly song
Still time enough now, a hundred years on.
But more so, for millennia more (now)
The tiny, winged workers diligently toil in field
And orchards, bring our good to fruit, fill tables
With all good things that grow, they serve
Like saints, suffer like martyrs and
Share like good anarchists do, or could,
This bond of food, of plenty, forges
Our connection across species and makes the
Gathering of tribes a glad thing.
Leave it to the Greeks! Those feisty defiers
Of Capital’s call to fall in line,
To debt and submission – not they!
But, they have named the bond of bees, who
Share knowledge and community with food,
Trophallaxis, from mouth to mouth, a kiss.
So we can also feed each other, as gardens
Grow, we will grow again,