Eyes on the Oregon State Prison: Voicing Concern for an Inmate’s Life – Salem-News.Com

Posted: July 23, 2010 in Francke Case


Eyes on the Oregon State Prison: Voicing Concern for an Inmate’s Life – Salem-News.Com

The latest in the series of articles by Salem-News.com on corruption in the state prison. An amusing comment was posted yesterday on this article in the form of a poem. Anyone wanna take a guess who the poster is? LOL!

The poem is very good. Good enough to publish on the home page of the website in fact.

On Asylum Avenue the Dome building stood,
where it had near a century, through both bad and good.
Beside the locked door, beneath a portico hood,
Francke’s body lay waiting in the cold winter night,
for someone to wander within his death’s sight.

Missing since seven, it took hours to find him.
A night-watchman squinted ‘neath lights that were dim,
at a man sprawled on his back, yet tall and trim.
Blood on the wall, the door glass was broken,
he looked at the scene, and knew death had spoken.

The murder was left an unfinished lyric,
of twisted truth and horrors terrific,
yet no shred of evidence, nothing specific.
Soon badges with sirens deafened death’s sound,
and trampled the scene and truth in the ground.

After his murder, upstairs a shredder was humming,
“Seventeen bags and six more a’ coming”
When they reopened the building,
Freddie thought, carrying them out,
“More bags than ever, beyond a doubt”.

Francke’s family was called, they told what they knew.
He’d confided he was watching, more than a few.
Corruption was rampant, he’d planned something to do.
As he watched over Prisons and counted the heads,
The Governor kept calling, “Now, we need beds!”

No one would listen that his staff had been stealing.
He practiced his shooting and held back the feeling,
that he might not be safe with the cards they were dealing.
Day tried to expose them, and he suddenly died,
and Thompson would later, when he finally tried.

Diablo told Angie, I stabbed Francke at dark.
Crouse would confess, and say, ”The answer’s at “Park”.
Then Jodie would say on a lark,
“My dead boyfriend did it” “I know more than you”
Then Keerins and Harden came for reward money, too.

Prosecutors suborned, and worked it just right,
with lie-detector practices into the night.
Then, right on cue each bird took flight,
swirling, twitting, “Perjury Procured”.
The lawyers smiled, conviction secured.

In the room at the Courthouse, they lined up their story.
For Jodie and Harden, even a Mock grand jury.
When the real one convened and they lied, no worry.
Remember? Immunity means it’s alright,
to make snitches from felons till they get it just right .

Gable’s feathers clipped and placed in a cage,
a patsy was framed, and rightly outraged.
A jury wouldn’t know that the trial was staged,
as the parakeet snitches, some caged up too,
prepared their song, to all sing in tune.

Francke’s briefcase is missing, Barger would spar.
The answer lies in “Why, it wasn’t found in his car.
“But, it wasn’t corruption!”, the D.A. argued at Bar.
“Twas a drug-addict, surprised, that wielded the knife,
and Francke, though bigger, just lost his life.”

“Jodie stays in jail! No recant in my Court!”
Again before trial, “No-third party retort!”,
and, “NO to Natividad’s autopsy report!”
In West’s court, motions in limine work really well.
An innocent convicted, well what the hell?



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