King County Court House
I have asked the lame man, I have asked the judge:
On the platter served, which is the head, which be justice?
At the surveillance door, the attired attorney is checked,
Not for dishonesty, but for potential dangers this door lets -
For the sick, the criminal, the insane duck the volleys of the law;
And to calculate their social power only introduces errors of our own.
As for the insomniacs they stir homelessly on the brittle streets at dawn,
The grand designs seem to be only empty sounds that falsify all.
And yet this is the sector, across the street from my neon-lit room,
With the pills on the vacant dresser, and one glass of water from doom ...
(The Morrison Hotel, July 2, 1995)
copyright Koon Woon
