The Tabard

 Toying with the life of the delinquent
formal wall confuses late teen logic
What do worms do they crawl
And what do crows do but gobble

life went sideways
prison suffocated the boy
His little mistake a viper now
entailed the torture of years

The veil between life and death
The judge's cape flows as he sits down
gracefully he decides your life
poptart eager audience

lawyers swing with pomp
Attempt false penury
parry with snobby articulate retorts
under the wig

laughing till the swig
the window cleaner unfogs the street lights
His son on trial sorrow well hidden
night falls on the boy in his cell

Biting into his hopelessness
Hindsight his bully his assailant
hell loop of the incident
guilt a fat leach now yet hungrier than ever

wanting to reach resignation
The child inside him reaking of sabotage
Not understanding the gravity
Dead future aching to decay

hidden in the shadows 
inches from the bars
shaking incontrollably
at the situation the boy was in

Nothing humms sex like the judges merciless hammer
smashing down on the prospects of the hopeless one
a geared up jury juiced and smoothied 
Two delusional lawyers dancing past the bar

make up and intonation
sweet tools tinkering
plying bias out
sculpting it artfully

Tickling reality
exposing their personal glee
a drop of sadism 
a secret need

The boy must die
Give him the chair
not for redemptive contemplation
But to burn inside at eighteen

After at the private club
They'd sit and invent a fable
underplaying the grim inhumanity
of such a debacle