Honduran money’s in few hands closed to rusty prison where every cell’s sealed and sole set of keys dropped by guard fleeing fire. Outside, guards blocked firefighters and shot at few prisoners not trapped in cells. Most screamed as fried or suffocated but quit carrying on when charred in stacks totaling three hundred fifty-five stinking so bad survivors put on masks. One wonders if before next fire guards, prison officials, and politicians will be locked in remaining crypts.
Six years later one still wonders while Honduras leads world in homicides and pours refugees north into Mexico and the United States.