(no idea where I found this, sorry)
In lieu of having anything interesting to say today, I share with you a poem I wrote twenty-five years ago, called "Jury Duty." It really was inspired by my first experience with jury duty. My second experience happened earlier this year. Anyway. You will be relieved to note I don't write poetry anymore.
flea dip, someone strangle me with wire from a murdered
folksinger's guitar. your honor, one lawyer is funnier
than the other, i fear that will influence my decision as
a juror. lonely downtown morning, pretty girl on a bike,
crossing against the light. i am not long for this world.
every song i like leads me around & around, like i am
chasing my tail, eating my tail, finding a strange broken
heart to consume, finding it's mine. your honor, i don't
deserve the six bucks you're gonna pay me for this, &
you're prettier from farther away. contempt of courtship.
your handclap's out of time, i won't listen to dr. israel
with you no mo, mon. the only light in the room is green
light from a fleakiller contraption, & i find myself a
blinking, flirting with it. like with the space between
notes in a song, between heartbeats, where i want to stop.
the day doesn't feel wasted, surrounded by bitter & sad
fat men, really, really fat, thinking of ways to get out
of serving, why so cooperative, then, why not lie? why do
i get funny looks when i can't imagine a life sentence for
such a young man? just for robbing someone at gunpoint?
amusing lawyer, petulant prosecutor, pock-marked judge man,
austin turns cold & gray, i like it when the rastafari rap.
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