If you read my “poem” (and I use the term loosely) from the “Jail Humor” post, you know I’ll never be another Pablo Neruda (the Nobel Prize winner and political activist who was considered Poet Laureate of Chile; click on his name for a link to his epic work). But we do the best with what we have, especially to pass our time while incarcerated.

In lock-up, you don’t necessarily have to be on friendly terms with everyone in your block, but it pays to at least be cordial. Morning greetings are expected, and after a while everyone develops their own response to the question, “how ya doin, man’?” The more creative inmates eventually settle on innovative come-backs, and a personal favorite I heard was “another day, another soup.”

(For the uninitiated, instant ramen noodles are standard dorm currency, and cost about 50-cents from the commissary. Thus, a pack of soup can be used individually as poker chips or multiplied endlessly to pay for just about anything, from cookies to sneakers. I once helped my bunky take inventory of his overflowing locker “store” and we counted 175 soups, worth $87.50 in commissary dollars.)

This catchy cordiality so enamored me I had to compose a free-form verse about it, and the phrase really does nicely capture a slice of dorm life. (FYI, a tray means a full meal; honey bun not included.)

Another Day, Another Soup

Some people will never

Get to see, nor hear this.

Wake up to, or learn

How to sleep to it.

It’s not Kindergarten.

You want a hug?

Call home.

Two soups to a dollar;

Buy your tray

For 4.

Another day,

week, month,

Closer.

Some people’s kids

Laugh. Cry. Pray.

~ January 2023