Incarceration

Bars

Tue, 31 Mar 2026 10:00:00 -0400

On a playground, at a gymnastics meet, over an apartment window

Los Vecinos

Sat, 28 Feb 2026 12:00:00 -0500

And we’re included in the golden circle / of familia, through no virtue / of our own, yet here she is again at our door / with a plate of something delicious, or a big plastic bag / filled with nopales from the edible pads / of the giant cactus in their yard

Nicknames

Sat, 31 Jan 2026 12:00:00 -0500

Get to know Boxcar Betty, Stick Dick, Lali, and the Cajun Asian

Back Cover

Fri, 31 Oct 2025 12:00:00 -0400

One Landscape Divided

Fri, 31 Oct 2025 12:00:00 -0400

President Trump’s increased militarization of the US border with Mexico is certainly a step beyond those taken by the past few administrations—and in line with the family-separation policies the first Trump White House deployed. But the detainment of people fleeing violence, poverty, and persecution is not unique to this moment.

Eight Tenets

Sun, 31 Aug 2025 12:00:00 -0400

This morning I tell myself, Everything is possible—the first tenet of qigong, the Chinese practice where you stand or sit and start scooping energy out of the air like it’s invisible ice cream. Reaching out and scooping, pulling back and placing energy on your heart, energy that allows good things to happen in all situations. This makes me feel super ninja and ready to meet the day.

At Union Square Park

Thu, 31 Jul 2025 12:00:00 -0400

A buck isn’t enough for his cup, this ex-con / wants a five, yelling for every passerby to stop / and read his Rikers wristband. // Look hard. Harder, he demands as he points.

Tents

Fri, 31 Jan 2025 12:00:00 -0500

On a solo backpacking trip, in a desert military base, at a church revival

Luxuries

Sat, 30 Nov 2024 12:00:00 -0500

A foreign sports car, a Hawaiian vacation, a glass of water on a hot day

This Call Is from an Inmate at a Federal Prison

Thu, 31 Oct 2024 12:00:00 -0400

They say you eventually get desperate / enough to call a stranger, someone / who’s added her number to a database / for the incarcerated, someone who’s / even more alone than you.

Misunderstandings

Sat, 31 Aug 2024 00:00:00 -0400

Missed calls, misheard lyrics, mistaken identities

And These Too Are Defensive Wounds

Sat, 31 Aug 2024 00:00:00 -0400

I’d thought the transcripts would help me write a letter to the parole board, but when I opened them, I saw a section of my own testimony at Maynard’s trial, and that was that. My head filled with hissing static; my heart raced.

Uniforms

Thu, 30 May 2024 00:00:00 -0400

For a job at Burger King, a prison in North Carolina, a girls’ school in Iran

Surrogates

jenniferbowenhicks@gmail.com — Sun, 31 Mar 2024 00:00:00 -0400

Twin had lived inside a concrete kennel for four of her five years. Wylie, who also lived inside a concrete box, had gone to prison as a teen. He’d cared for Twin since she was a puppy, which meant he had likely opened her kennel to feed her and let her out thousands of times.

Fantasy

Thu, 29 Feb 2024 05:00:00 -0500

Calling a 1-900 number, moving to the tropics, writing fan fiction

Gratitude

Thu, 30 Nov 2023 05:00:00 -0500

A second chance at work, a shared meal in the classroom, a helpful stranger at a rest stop

Selected Poems

Tue, 31 Oct 2023 04:00:00 -0400

For two years The Sun was a lighthouse that guided me through rough, dark waters: Every line of mine that Sy [Safransky] published penetrated a little more of the fog called imprisonment. Every poem revealed my wrecked spirit dashed against the reef. Not only had Sy loved them, but Sun readers sent letters of appreciation, which Sy printed in the magazine. I’d never been complimented for anything, much less a literary contribution. My life had some hope in it now.

This Month In Sun History

Thu, 31 Aug 2023 04:00:00 -0400

On a quiet Friday afternoon in the summer of 2007, the phone rang in The Sun’s office. It was someone calling on behalf of a man on death row to inform us of a glaring error in an upcoming issue.

A Face In Judgment

Thu, 31 Aug 2023 04:00:00 -0400

A young man stands at the lectern: nineteen years old, athletic, thick black hair down to his shoulders. I’ll call him Marco. Today my job is to decide whether to send him to prison.

Idols

Mon, 31 Jul 2023 04:00:00 -0400

A beloved professor, an Olympic gymnast, a Broadway star

Become A Friend Of The Sun

Wed, 31 May 2023 04:00:00 -0400

I’ve now been here for fifteen years. In that time I’ve been gratified to see that the values that drew me to The Sun years ago weren’t just words on a page. They’re reflected in every part of the magazine.

Some Thoughts On Mercy

Wed, 31 May 2023 04:00:00 -0400

When we have mercy, deep and abiding change might happen.

A Thousand Words

Sun, 30 Apr 2023 04:00:00 -0400

A Thousand Words features photography so rich with narrative that it tells a story all on its own.

Tattoos

Sun, 30 Apr 2023 04:00:00 -0400

A memorial, an act of rebellion, a reminder of survival

Unsheltered

Tue, 31 Jan 2023 05:00:00 -0500

The Martin v. Boise decision stands for the very simple principle that punishing a homeless person for undertaking basic, life-sustaining activities like sleeping or sheltering themselves — when there’s no adequate alternative accessible to them — is cruel and unusual under the Eighth Amendment to the Constitution.

Late Delivery

Tue, 31 May 2022 04:00:00 -0400

My mother didn’t raise a thief, but by the time you round forty, you’re pretty much raising yourself. I scooped the package from its hiding place, then waved my free hand at the doorbell camera.

Intimacy

Tue, 31 May 2022 04:00:00 -0400

In a college dorm, in a prison, in a marriage

Trash

Fri, 31 Dec 2021 05:00:00 -0500

Collecting bottles, tossing leftovers, taking out the garbage

Penned

Fri, 31 Dec 2021 05:00:00 -0500

Drugs can make us do stupid things — though, to be fair, drugs can also help us meet formidable demands. Meth can make you work hard as hell, the way my mom did, doing a full-time job at a farm-equipment company on weekdays and part-time retail jobs on weekends, until it all came crashing down.

It’s Friday Afternoon In The Florida State Penitentiary And The Men Read Poetry

Thu, 22 Jul 2021 04:00:00 -0400

and Ronnie says Robert Hayden got / it right, a whipping be like that — “the face that I no longer / knew or loved” — damn, that’s it, right there and / Ronnie doesn’t blame his mama for beating him so bad, but / maybe she could have kept her pipe in the car and then maybe / he never would have ended up in a foster home