by Tony Magistrale
In their absolute world of right and wrong,
we all stand for justice
even if justice proves an elusive
construction, pursued by overly determined men
in Armani suits with silk ties,
women who strut like men in power
pumps and no makeup and never smile.
We all stand for justice
in this solemn and serious place
where boy-men are processed
in and out of the system (why is it
so much easier for them to get in than out?)
for their affronts against the State:
thirty days for alcoholism driving
the wheel, a week for mouthing off
to an officious cop, one hundred dollars
restitution for stealing a pair of jeans.
The suits prosecute boys and men
who are still boys and each one
hangs his shaggy, stupid head in sorrow.
I'm so very sorry
for my failure to learn
since the last time I stood here
and I promise never again
to have my miserable fate derailed
by some stranger drunk on his own cologne
wearing a robe or a uniform
who could sincerely care less.
Tony Magistrale is Professor of English and Associate Chair of the Department of English at the University of Vermont.
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