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	<title>Free George Martorano</title>
	<link>http://www.freegeorge.us</link>
	<description>George Martorano is sentenced to life without parole for a non-violent crime</description>
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		<title>America The Gray</title>
		<description><![CDATA[His eyes opened. His nose smells. His right hand reaches out and runs along the cell wall. He feels pain in his lower back. He breathes in the years and exhales within his mind. He begins to pull, push, struggle, himself upright on the prison bunk. He lifts one leg, then the other and his [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.freegeorge.us/america-the-gray/</link>
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		<title>Bless Bond</title>
		<description><![CDATA[If some vision could, would paint the likes of what travel along&#8230;.. An old man set upon a donkey. An old dog following. Where they moved was the border country, now, at the closing end of sunset. The land scape of quiet cactus. The waiting shades of dessert ground. From minutes to coming minutes. The [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.freegeorge.us/bless-bond/</link>
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		<title>Opus Of Prisoner 12973-004</title>
		<description><![CDATA[The guards have finally brought me to this last place. I stand at the very end of a plank. The plank extends over a deep chisom. Below is hell. I see them down there. Their leather&#8217;d arms, extended high, their hands of clawed nails, waiting for me. Yet, I breath. I close my eyes. I [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.freegeorge.us/pous-of-prisoner-12973-004/</link>
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		<title>The Dream Story</title>
		<description><![CDATA[It is late. It is the night of the new year. My head still lays upon a hard prison pillow. Whence my eyes peel open, it shall be the 29th year. I feel as though I reside in the country side of the condemned&#8230;.. Yet this is not my thoughts to write&#8230;.. Dear Queen Mary [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.freegeorge.us/the-dream-story/</link>
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		<title>Between The Prison Cries</title>
		<description><![CDATA[I came into the cage at the age of 32, today, December 21, 2011, I am 61 years of age. I have been living the very human dam of an unnatural life. Blocked off from the very meaning of real love. Between, and along the gray decades of high, hard, walls&#8230;.. the cries of men [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.freegeorge.us/between-the-prison-cries/</link>
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		<title>Chicago Connie</title>
		<description><![CDATA[It was cold as hell in her closet sized bedroom in the large closet sized row home. A home up the narrow rickety street where once the winter wind met the beginning of that street it became a howl, a growl, and whipped through it. The pint sized dwelling had an address, 99 1/2 painted [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.freegeorge.us/chicago-connie/</link>
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		<title>Dear Mr. President</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Dear President Obama, I am writing to you through my uncle, George, because I am very little and do not talk so good. But my uncle understands me if I hop up and down and keep at it. My days are long and of course my nights are short &#8217;cause I go to bed early. [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.freegeorge.us/dear-mr-president/</link>
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		<title>The Tab</title>
		<description><![CDATA[As I look into the tiny, tiny, pond. There isn&#8217;t much of the way of things in, down and around the liquid. Yet, there is in the center, bobbing with the wind from my own lips, a small, golden island&#8230;.. As I stare at the island, floating a little to the left, a little to [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.freegeorge.us/the-tab/</link>
			</item>
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		<title>THE LAW</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Well, good evening and I have just come in from the night yard watching an orange moon so slowly rise from behind tree tops then longing more from up above&#8230;.. But, as I looked up I had legal issues in my mind&#8230;.. First, the 7th Circuit has come down with a recent case on general [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.freegeorge.us/the-law/</link>
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		<title>Yourselves To Know</title>
		<description><![CDATA[You think to know me, is to see me before your eyes. You think to hear me, is to listen of the words played from my lips. You think to understand me, is to read what I have composed&#8230;.. Thus, yourselves to know. Know it is truly a cost to bear, to knoweth not fear. [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.freegeorge.us/yourselves-to-know/</link>
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