New Year’s Day
 
In the lead up to Christmas
being a vegan prisoner
had its own rewards
 
one of which was the fact
that my weekly bag of raisins
was deemed desirable
by several prison brewers
 
Consequently I had shares
in several piss-bucket breweries
which weren’t particularly subtle
the stink of baker’s yeast
(purloined from the kitchen)
plip plip plopping beneath the springs of
several yeasty prison beds
 
A rumour went around our particular wing
that the screws would turn a blind nose
to our fermented shenanigans
as long as there was no violence
and it was all drunk up by New Year’s Day
 
And whilst this rumour
was seriously questioned
by all who received and passed it on
the possibly imaginary pact
was upheld by all sides
 
which meant that
on the cusp of midnight
of the final day of the year
I found myself standing in my cell
with a blue plastic mug
of raisin-infused
7-day-old vintage prison hooch
wondering how prisoners celebrated
or not
the occasion
 
I checked my watch
 
Ten
Nine
and then it began
Eight
Seven
first a few kicks
Six
quickly rising
Five
and I found myself joining in
Four
heel first
Three
thwang!
Two
thwang!
and now the roaring thunder of a hundred cell doors
being kicked with joy
and kicked with fury
rang through those prison walls