The Judge

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                  "Order in the court
                  the Judge is eating beans
                  Hitler's in the bathtub
                  sinking submarines."

                        - a childhood rhyme

He sits upon the throne
scraggle beard with black peep hole eyes
and long balding hair hung over from Haight Ashbury
pop art bullshit daze of reefer
and tie-dyed American flags
now he tries to look serious
as he eyes me up and down

my sphincter tightens
can't catch my breath

He just keeps looking at me
like he doesn't give a shit about my life
sitting there on his mahogany throne
like some pissant choirboy
dressed up in the priest's vestments

Judge man's got a name
that sounds like some dead German philosopher
      who was born a Jew
I can feel his disgust for me as if I were
one of the ordertakers and buttonpushers of the dead Reich
sitting behind the glass at Nuremberg
flitting in and out of sanity
hissing slogans and profanity

I want to shout out
I'm not one of them
I don't believe in the superrace
      or the SS
      or any of that stuff from civics class
why didn't I listen closer
but my mouth is dry and I can't manage
anything more pathetic than a swallow
as he turns the pages of my life
looking for some excuse
to banish me to the labor camps
except
we don't have any

One of the components of sentencing
      is the deterrent aspect of that sentence,
      not only for the accused, but for society at large.

I wonder if he is making this stuff up
or quoting one of his Nuremberg buddies
as he bandies numbers about like he has no concept
that one year is three hundred and sixty-five days
      with an extra one added for leap year
sixty-one thousand, three hundred and twenty hours is
three million, six hundred and seventy-nine thousand, two hundred minutes
with sixty heartbeats a minute
we're talking about my heart wearing out

But no one hears me as his flat voice
drones on and on
ticking the days of my life away with the mindless motion
of shooing flies away from the carrion
piled outside the ovens

But I was never there
I've never even been to Germany you stupid fuck

But it doesn't matter
'cause I'm guilty
and stealing innocence is as bad
as baking six million Jews

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2 Comments
flyguy69flyguy69over 19 years ago
Strikes like a gavel

Very strong poem-- a wonderfully tight mix of insolence and fright seizes the reader. Well done.

tarablackwood22tarablackwood22over 19 years ago
your poem

has been mentioned in Tuesday's reviews.

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