Nobody is supposed to be here, but everyone came to see the end.

The sheriff, pride and gun.
( I caught her in a trap, and she still tried
to run. But what good is running with my metal
claw wrapped around your ankle,
you who only confessed in the dark? )

The mayor averting his eyes.
( Stupid formalities keep me here, I never
expected this when I ran for office.
A small town meant to be only a stepping
stone to great success has stopped me cold. )

A row of anonymous lawmen.
( Appointed by the state they sweat in their
suits and think of themselves either
lifted or buried by this potential loss. Read it,
your Honor, what is taking you so long? )

Rows of blank jury members.
( Did we do it right, did we think it through,
if I cannot decide what kind of pancake
mix to buy, how can I decide whether
she lives or dies? )

Citizens breathing heavily.
( Murder is wrong, but what does a living
murderer stand for? We want blood,
it is immediately satisfying, though we will
one day forget why we wanted hers. )

A man watching from the back row.
( God, I have no power to speak to anyone
but you about her, but she is the only thing
I have ever loved and the only thing that
ever loved me back. )

A woman standing in handcuffs.
( Is he praying to that absent god? When I am
gone he will wander the earth to find another,
he should pray to find one less cruel than me.
The judge has lost his glasses again. )

The judge in his dark robe.
( Where are my glasses? Have I lost them?
If something is lost and never found, does it turn to ash?
Oh there they are, let me put them on
and read her fate out loud. )

He recites what is written and he wonders, maybe things are better without the clarity of these lenses.

01/03/2004

Posted on 01/03/2004
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