Prison Instruction — Memo from the Principal (a found poem)

Jesse Doiron

September 6, 2026

To:   Teachers

From:   Principal of Inmate Instruction

Re.:  Various / Classroom Discipline

I am sending 6 boxes of 12 pencils each, today. Do not let the inmates keep these pencils. Pick all of them up after class.

They can be used as lethal weapons

inside and outside the classroom,

especially if the inmates learn

how to write well.

Along with the pencils, I am sending 1 pkg of 500-count loose-leaf notebook paper and 3 pkgs. of 150-count loose-leaf notebook paper. At the beginning of fall courses, I left 5 pkgs. of 100-count loose-leaf notebook paper.

Why the different counts?

Why loose-leaf?

Can they keep the paper they do not use in class?

Who ended up with all the loose paper from the fall?

Be careful in the distribution of paper and pencils. DO NOT ALLOW THE INMATES TO HAND OUT PAPER. Please hand out paper only in the amount needed – not wanted. The prison administration inquires when large amounts of paper are used quickly. 

How quick is “quickly” in a prison?

Quick to eat?

Quick to get to the classroom?

Quick to get the toilet permit pass?

Quick to finish the essay assignment?

Quick to get shanked with a pencil?

Quick to stanch the bleeding with loose-leaf notebook paper?

Quick to pick up all the blood-stained pencils and blood-soaked     

            paper?

Paper and pencils are only to be used for classroom assignments and projects. Inmates should not bring unused paper or any pencils back to their housing. Paper and pencils leaving the Education Facility are contraband and will be confiscated.

So –

No weapons?

No dope?

No booze?

No pornography?

No paper money?

No playing cards?

No dice?

No homework compositions?

Thank you for cooperating,

Principal of Prison Instruction

There is a principle of Prison Instruction –

Never teach an inmate enough to escape

imprisonment – physically or mentally.

Jesse Doiron has worked in Europe, the Middle East, and Asia as an educator and consultant. His teaching experience ranges from English for international business at the UC – Berkeley Extension in San Francisco to creative writing at the Mark Stiles Maximum Security Prison for the Texas Department of Criminal Justice.

The World at Fannin and McKinney

Suzanne Morris

February 1, 2026

On a Saturday afternoon, I am

driving through downtown Houston

for the first time since

that moment when my world

stood still in a solemn adieu

then resumed turning on its axis,

without you.

At the corner of 

Fannin and McKinney

the light turns red.

As the car sits idling, 

I find myself gazing at

the rear entrance of the old 12-story

Southern National Bank building

where I once spent all my

working hours.

Muscled out of the

latter-day skyline by

glass-sheathed towers

four times as high

befitting a world-class city

well-known for

shaking the dust from its sandals,

the buff-colored stone edifice

seems unchanged

from the time when I was 

drawn into its bustling orbit; 

and all at once I have

a feeling of déjà vu, 

slipping inside

the taut skin of my youth,

the sun warming

my bare arms

as I open the door on the

passenger side 

and step out onto the pavement

in a mini-skirt and pantyhose

at eight o’clock on a

weekday morning

to head for the

tall glass doors that lead

to a job on the seventh floor

that I love in a way

few people seem to, anymore

where officemates look out

for one another

and fast friendships

are made

and every year you can

count on a modest raise.

At the end of the workday

when shadows steal across

the building faces

you will pull up at the corner of

Fannin and McKinney

and I will open the passenger door

and slide in.

We are like Houston:

youthful and hard-working,

with money to spend,

betting on a future

as high in the clouds

as the skyline on view

when the traffic light

turns green,

reminding me that

all we dreamed of 

in the world we knew is

resting in peace now,

as you are.

Before becoming a poet, Suzanne Morris was a novelist, with eight published works between 1976 and 2016.  Many of her early poems were featured in her fiction, to advance the underlying themes.  Since 2020, she has contributed poems to several anthologies, and has been published at a variety of online poetry journals, including The Texas Poetry Assignment.  A native Houstonian, Ms. Morris has resided in Cherokee County for 17 years.