Thursday, June 1, 2023


If 6 Were 9

A blog on Texas prisons by Maura Levine

Women in Texas women's prisons wait. In the darkness, in the silence, in the coldness -- they wait for chow, they wait for clothes, they wait in long lines of middle aged, overweight, ugly women. It is the night of six million bitches. They hate and they wait, just like Catherine d'Medici. I have heard many of them say they hate everybody in here, but then they have to make new friends because they can't get any more commissary out of their old friends.

Women snitches who were drug-dealing dykes in the world become nosy, hateful thugs who want everything just so in their world because they're so mad about being here. One lady calls everyone friend in an attempt to make friends and then turns around and treats her friends like shit.

Prison lights. prison land,
shifting sands of Time.
Rocky ground, trodden down,
where no grass will grow.

Women in prison do not talk about men, or the unfairness of life. They ain't that philosophical, with their IQ’s squarely somewhere below the level of 80. Most can barely write or spell; many can never graduate from G.E.D. class no matter how many years they stay in the classes. They talk about commissary, what's for the next meal, and parole, when they're not verbally sparring with each other. There's no way to do your nails because there's nothing to do them with. People pay other people to do their hair… its a hustle in prison for people to get commissary.

People (women are people), drink the most awful so-called coffee to mentally cope with the coldness of prison. There is never any compassion or sympathy from your fellow prisoners. No camaraderie or comradeship among women. It is proverbial in prison that women do not stick together. I don't know how many times I've heard women say that their friends in the world were men, that the women they knew screwed them over somehow. Women don't have any sympathy for women. Not even if you are sick, dying, or blind. I knew a blind lady... women would gossip behind her back that she was faking it, that she could see. She had a white cane, for God's sake! There is only a constant fending off of the nosy, controlling, rude, disrespectful women who talk about how they really wanted to slap so and so. The racism against white people is so common that none of them will identify as white. So back to the coffee! It is of the instant variety, of a brand that isn't sold in the world. I call it dreck or swill -- you have to doctor it up with various prison-brand coffee creamers and sweeteners until it’s palatable. Drink whenever you get up to brace yourself for stepping into the maelstrom that is prison. But you had better pray also first, before you get satanically attacked by a prisoner or a guard! Put on that spiritual armor!

Maura Levine is over halfway through a 37 year sentence at the federal prison facility in San Saba, Texas. Maura would like penpals for conversation, support, and fellowship as well as any sharp legal minds that could help work on her case so that she might be released. Maura’s mail address is:

Maura Levine #901149
San Saba Unit
206 S. Wallace Creek Rd.
San Saba, TX 76877

Please brighten up Maura's day by penning her a letter of support. Thanks!

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