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Spring 2008

Poetry

VanBuren's picks:

Antonia Clark
Brad Johnson
Dale McLain
Roger Pfingston
Richard Rippon

John Anderson
Cristina Baptista
Cynthia Brackett-Vincent
Michael Brownstein
Nuala Ní Chonchúir
Alison Eastley
Brent Fisk
David Fraser
Krikor der Hohannesian
Amy MacLennan
Lisa Markowitz
Damon McLaughlin
Micki Myers
Roger Pfingston
Heather Schimel
Rachel Stewart
Lafayette Wattles

Flash Fiction

Matt Alberhasky
Margaret Fieland
Robert Johnson
Willie Smith



On Debunking Modern Art

Alex Nodopaka


Pushcart Nominees

Editors

Jennifer VanBuren
Jai Britton
Patrick Carrington


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Robert Johnson

Spring 2008

 

The Procedure

They rolled him in on a gurney, stopping right in the middle of the sterile, brightly lit room we like to call the prison hospital annex. As usual, I took over from there, attaching the IV drip to his left arm and running another line to his right arm as a back-up. Sometimes the main line comes loose.


The man—there'd been so many this month I didn't get his name—turned down the offer of mild sedation before the procedure. "I'll take the full dose when things get under way."


"No problem," I replied. Things were on pace, no hitches, no stress. It was getting late and I wanted to get home to the wife.


"When was your last meal," I asked. Routine.


"I haven't eaten in twenty-four hours," he said, "Maybe longer."


Nerves, I figured. Normal. "How're you feeling now?"


"As ready as I'll ever be."


"Anything you want to say before we, uh, get going?"


"Put me under?"


"Yeah, put you under." That's the first step, we both knew.


"Let's just get on with it."


"Is there anyone from your family here, to take care of your…"

"She's right outside in the waiting area," he said, cutting me off. "My mom."

"And she's prepared to…"

"She's there for me. Always has been."

"I'm glad."

"Texas mothers, you know, something special"

I nodded, relaxing a bit. The condemned man spoke with conviction and I took him at his word. Later, I turned his body over to his mother. She signed the requisite forms and we were both free to go home.

c

Robert Johnson is a criminologist who writes poetry and fiction about crime and punishment. His writings have appeared in Admit2, Black Bear Review, JMWW, Predicate, Tacenda Literary Magazine and Wild Violet, as well as others. Robert is the editor of BleakHouse Publishing.

He can be reached at robertpatrickjohnson@gmail.com.