Diary New Folsom May 9

Sitting here looking out on Mother Earth's stage, my little window. I ponder something brilliant to say and I have nothing. I figure that's okay. So, I just say good morning Mother Earth. I have my poetry class today. I'll see what it brings.
Day's done and I wrote prompts on the board and handed out art pictures to inspire poetry as well. Then I had my students read what they wanted. I have a couple of students too stuck on being a gangster to take poetry class seriously and only see it as a means to get out of the cell. That's okay for a while, but I want people in my class to share their realness and I do my best to put forth things they can gain inspiration from and perhaps inspire them to walk in their own shoes. They will not be in my class forever, especially if they're not writing.
I had to go herd the Gosling Five back over to the small yard from the big yard that was crowded with prisoners, guards and free staff. People still stare at me puzzled as to how I get the geese family to walk through both gates enclosed in a corridor to the small yard. People look in awe and call me the Goose Whisperer. I pay no mind to that. I believe the Gosling Five will fly away next week.

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