Untitled from Prison Notebook

Tunnels, just wide enough for the body to squeeze into, twisted and tight,

Routes carved of volcanic rocks.

I crawl through them, prowling blindly.

I hear the footsteps of guards, blocking the only exit.

No guiding light, no exits, no way out,

I try to go back but the guards are up at the gate.

I prowl blindly

Through twisted tunnels and routes.

I am lost.

My screams reach no one,

My mouth shut.

My screams will reach no one so long as my mouth is shut.

Ibrahim El-Salahi

: Here I was remembering a nightmare where I was trying to go through some underground tunnels. I moved about, and whenever I found an outlet, the guards would close it. So I had to go backward through a very, very narrow hole. It made me feel claustrophobic, going back into these twisted lanes underground.

Credit: Acquired through the generosity of Marlene Hess and James D. Zirin, Catie and Donald Marron, Alice and Tom Tisch (in honor of Christophe Cherix), Marnie Pillsbury and Committee on Drawings and Prints Fund