Friday, July 08, 2016
Article of Faith,
or Nun
Since it’s Sister Dorothy
on the stand,
the fresh Assistant DA dare
not paint her
in his usual ways of scatter-
ingly candied
wench or The Whore of Babylon.
When she returns to her seat in
the courtroom, worry
vanishes from that section. And,
mooing commences. Moving
the Judge to gavel order.
Labels: Catholic, courtroom, DA, judge, Law, mooing, Whore of Babylon, women
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Happy Hogan's Motor Court
I lived with my sister, Crestview Apartments. No criminals there.
Or at Darsell Acres, or Melody Falls Condos.
But if you were to draw a rope around the three, you’d pretty
much gather all the folks not incarcerated in the city of Laurel Vista.
Prisons and jails being the main municipal feature.
I commuted to my job as Chicken Inspector, at the Cluck-Cluck
Farm in Bent Oak.
Well, Sis and I called it that, the job. Anyway, Foreman of an
operation it’s needless to go into. Think feathers.
One day I was tried, arrested, and sent to Daryl Bell Hoxey
Private Prison.
The work of Judge Streamline Carter! Actually, the trial had been
held without my knowledge. Then, they sent the officers to take
me into custody.
“Well, it’s only two years, and I’ll get out in one,” I counseled Sis
while we read the order as the cops fidgeted.
Lynne put up with nothing! And I had to be ripped from her grip.
They never named the charge, by the way. And haven’t yet.
But she was down every throat she could find! All authorities
insisted I had my day in court. But I hadn’t, of course.
But everybody she talked to believed it, and waved away facts.
Which is how you become one.
Her efforts did get me transferred from inelegant Hoxey to
a halfway house, the former Happy Hogan’s Motor Court.
A startling resort in the twenties and thirties, but now a
rustic ruin, more or less. But some cottages had been
partially refurbished, and I got one. A third of it Fifties style,
formica everything, and a twelve inch Motorola black and white.
Hey! Quite comfortable! The catering service brought the food
I ordered, and I cooked it myself.
Unfortunately, not much of a chef, which Lynne discovered
after a visit.
So, she moved in. After notifying the Hogans, who were fine
with it. Especially after telling them she was a bookkeeper, and
would straighten out their...uh, you couldn’t call them records,
since the motel part still secretly ran and got mixed up with
the inmates, who would frequently help with luggage for the tips.
Well, you couldn’t tell which from which, and a couple from Rhode
Island had been held a full week past their checkout date.
Courtesy of Bung Slater, who was the ostensible overall warden
over three such “arrangements.”
We’re awfully good friends with the Hogans, dinners at their place
or ours weekly.
Anyway, when my sentence due to end, they persuaded Bung we
tried escaping when we went to Lowes, which we did frequently.
He just winked, so we’re here indefinitely, I guess.
Lynne’s in a fury of remodeling, but kept the thirty-forty-fifty
flavor. Mostly thirty. She threw out the TV!
You’d expect John Dillinger to answer when the door chime
plays Prisoner of Love.
By the way, I’m no longer a prisoner, but as my fellows toasted
at the banquet, “An honored member of the Enforcement Community.”
Lynne married Chip Hogan, who took over when he finished grad
work at Syracuse. His parents moved to Indialantic, Florida.
Quite an age difference, Chip and Lynne, but he pipes that she’s a
dynamo in the office AND in the bedroom!
The three of us visit regularly and have seen rockets go off at
Cape Canaveral.
Believe it or not, the cons run the operation while we’re gone--
though we question the embezzlers politely upon return.
Labels: crime, Criminal Justice, jail, judge, law enforcement, motel, prison, private prison, privitization
Wednesday, June 04, 2014
A Legal History
We phone
the judge as
a tug to get on
same page. Then,
don’t fuss. Knows
our pretty way a-
round a case.
Supremely so
at present.
Labels: corruption, crooked, influence, judge, legal, political influence, Supreme Court
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Justice Trifecta
Highest Political Operatives
-He's a ferociously independent judge.
What the nation wants.
-And he'll do every fuckin thing we
tell him.
-Best of all possible worlds!
---
Legislators and Judges
-Then just what the fuck do these judges want?
-They adore the thrust of the new law, but clarity.
Clarity!
-That, and we're all out of business.
---
Severe Sentences For Hackers Portraying
Their Own Version of Patriotism
Hellfire judges wish
to spread the wealth
of punishment around
to those opposing
the slipping thrust
of grand old words.
Labels: independence, judge, Justice, legislator, punishment, tradition
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
What moments divine, what raptures serene
Rich expropriate Constitution
as everything else. Judges needn't
be told, sensing it through the skin
as they begin their old beguine.
Rich expropriate Constitution
as everything else. Judges needn't
be told, sensing it through the skin
as they begin their old beguine.
Labels: Constitution, judge, rich
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Justice on the Phone, or Those Who Have Ears
“Now you know I can’t talk directly about anything
before the court. But I will say this...”
“Now you know I can’t talk directly about anything
before the court. But I will say this...”
Labels: judge, Justice, politics
Saturday, September 04, 2010
Impressing Judges
Running to beat
the ball at first
base, one must rush
through the bag, not
slide or leap, gamboling
so the umpire might be
hoodwinked by a rapid
change in attitude. As
a later judge might keep
you around or divide the assets
in your favor, or sentence you
to ride beneath
the streets of
Boston forever.
Labels: Baseball, first base, judge, umpire
