On Sherrif Gusman, for a Criminal Defense Lawyer

I saw Justice out walking
on Bourbon Street,
a little after 3,
when the whole scene seems
to take one shuddering breath;
cascade; Toulouse to Dumaine
heaves and a strange tranquility
leaves the menagerie laid plain

so it was fate then
that he gave out just then

before me, face up and white flecked lips,
barbed wire muzzle beard

and jaws clenched,
even in death;

not for the judge to sentence
but by life lived at its own behest

given and taken wretchedly

long before the gavel’s crack.

2-1-14
Frenchmen St

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