In a new portfolio from A World Without Cages, eight incarcerated writers explore the underworld.
if only we could learn / to stop // looking back / for each other.
I am buried by my own guilt and shame for a crime that impacted the victim, my family, and my community.
I reside in purgatory awaiting judgment. A seven-level structure, seven stories of nothing.
The Buddha has been in this prison for as long as any of us can remember. He has always been here, watching over our Sangha meetings, sitting with us in practice.
Sometimes you wonder if there really is a place called heaven nearby. You will ask yourself which would be better: Death? Or 38 years in prison?
Dao Xiong writes to Axxel Xiong from inside a Minnesota prison.
In prison, most relationships are transactional. Rey, for some reason, shows love to everyone on the cellblock.
each maple and golden locust / weighs heavy with coverings of Christian / white snow concealing / impurities of earthen made bark
A Sikh American law student writes about working with detained Sikh migrants.
In five works from our initiative A World Without Cages, writers witness life inside.
but your leaves are changing in here / as all the fallen do
How might a children’s book explain prison abolition?
I often ask myself what I am learning or bearing witness to by being here. What is in front of me and why. I frequently have no answers to my questions.
In 2017, we stop a deportation flight to Cambodia with thirty fathers, brothers, and sons on board. A few months later, many of them are deported anyway.
what I don’t get is why / you choose to come here
To launch our initiative A World Without Cages, we consider the literature of incarceration with writers like Brandon Shimoda, Nina Sharma, and Zaina Alsous.
We’re looking for creative work about life in jail, prison, and immigrant detention.