311

No less than 311 prisoners in Italy
serving life sentences have co-signed
a letter to the president requesting
that they be "killed just once"
instead of dying a little bit every
single day. Recently, Italy, home
of the Papacy, asked the UN to
consider tabling the idea of a
worldwide moratorium on
capital punishment. Now 311
of their own men want death
instead the tiny fractions of lives
they've stuck with now. Three
hundred eleven would rather not be
here than be forced to know of the free
ways of the outside world that will
forever be well beyond their reach.
What are any of us right-minded,
self-righteous people supposed
to think now? Day is night, wrong
is right. Our efforts to remove death
from the list of things civilized
folks are involved with are failing
worse than ever. We think
we know what people want, what
anybody wants out of life; we
don't. We think we know what
lifers want; we don't. And we
spend our lives thinking we might
have an inkling what women want;
we don't. Our confusion, just like
our murderous ways, has sunk to
an all-time low. The scariest thing
about the Italian prisoners is
that I feel exactly the same way.
How come I can't tell the difference
between serving a life sentence and
simply living out my days? I reckon
it's because I'm a prisoner in my own
body, staring out gloomily through
the bars, remembering tearfully
the passionate way my life once was,
unable now to live my life as the man
I used to be. And I'm not even
middle aged or what they might call
"older." I take a small bit of comfort
in knowing at least 311 men out there
are in the same lonesome boat, albeit
a different boat completely.

(2007)