witnessing real justice

a wierd day.

witnessing real justice

 

we watched from a confused Plexiglas cage:

 

the strapped-in villain exhaled a desperate confession to God

(emotional stress fractured his physical facilities),

he seized hard, lost bladder and bowel control,

inhaled a mix of noxious toxins and self-righteous spurn

(chemical trauma set the nervous system aflame),

seized again, wallowed and shivered in his urgent pain

(reminded me of a drowning somehow),

gurgled up an eternally blighted wraith

(internally incinerated; actual smoke escaped his cracked lips)

and fell forever limp.

just gone.

 

“so this is proper justice?”

I asked the peacock-proud warden.

 

“it’s what we got,”

he replied in a seemingly baffled rasp.

 

I felt more perturbed than impressed.

 

one witness said they had night terrors

after seeing the execution.

 

I didn’t dream at all.

Author's Note

this about a real execution I witnessed in college as part of a Psychology of Death, Dying and Bereavement project. didn't like it.

Reviews

[Analgesia]

Well, obviously some part of me was reminded of Green Mile by the sentiment here and by the graphic nature of this mans death. I've always been rather passionate about this subject so I won't go into much detail about how this struck me, needless to say it's powerfull, especially the last few lines, I geuss part of you was murdered along with the fellow in the chair.

[An owl on the moon]

The title gripped me immediately. What a powerful, horrid vision to have to watch. And the feelings that came after, along with the questions. Amazing words that cut so deep into the soul of society.