As an inmate in San Quentin,
Merle Haggard must’ve hollered
as Johnny Cash took to stage, 
began playing his set, heckling 
security.
               Everyone, especially
prisoners, need to release the
tension sometimes. I listen to
“Mama Tried” and try to feel
less like a disappointment,
singing along.
               Who’s to say what’s 
true? Maybe “We Don’t Smoke
Marijuana in Muskogee,” but
I’m sure Merle did.
                Illusion is another
word for “lie,” isn’t it? The
room dark, music drowning
all the doubts, all the damn 
ugly noise inside me.