You’re on trial



Fifth Estate # 313, Summer, 1983

this courtroom is a public urinal reeking

with the suicidal odor of protocol

the oily horror of boredom illuminates my nausea

on a never ending ride into the hinterlands

of the loneliest chaos I have ever known

does the defendant waive time?

my lawyer winks flirtatiously

yes, your honor

he learned his ABCs

yes, your honor

she pledged allegiance to the flag

yes, your honor

they are usually on welfare

yes, your honor

we are dying, unknown to history