the hours passed
so swiftly
now it is 9: 04 on my watch
i have written
poems
candidly
direct from the mind
to this blank eyes
always staring at me
this dumb monitor
i like to write more
but what can i do?
got to work to and
earn my living
and got to hammer
some more
this mortar and pestle
of this justice
system that
does not really
work....
the Chief Justice
can kill me
but oh well,
this is nothing
but work
and work
and work
and work
nothing to do with justice
but work
nothing personal
(so it is but impersonal)
no eyes
just this blindness
hammer, hammer now
hammer out, hammer in
this gavel
this, oh, well, this bread
of life
this death for some
this escape for you