damn cotton and furrows and rows, 
                     sun burns
                     while bullying guards rant ...
                        Ramsey 1 Prison Farm
                        Texas Department of Deformations 
                        sorry ass year of 1967

     Say, Tush-Hog Convict

say, tush-hog convict,
pick that cotton, boy, hear?
else
ain't gonna give you a damn thing to eat, 
git on, yo' sorry ass meskin, 
pick me a nigger high hunnerd pounds, 
else we'll kill
yo' meskin ass, hear?

day in, day out,
dust swirls, guts ache,
whipped and lashed about, 
guard on horseback 
with a magnum on his side, 
sun drools and licks its chops, 
it's beyond a bitch 
doing this damn time 
will die
before my row is picked,
    time and again,
can't hate them anymore, 
illiterate fools, 
seethe inside, 
plotting a demise
    (theirs or mine, doesn't much matter 
                any goddamn more!), 
someday, somewhere 
we'll meet,
cabrones pinches guardias,
on equal ground-
    magnum oriented grounds-
entonces shall we see . . .

right now you hold the whip and gun, 
i am defenseless, and though i hurt, 
you'll never see my tears 
nor hear my moans,