All Lawyers Are Poets

Today I caught NPR's Fresh Air segment the spoke in depth about how the supreme court works and some cases that have recently past and some cases that are soon here.

and it inspired me to write unpoetic poetry.

All Lawyers are poets
And this country is founded
On poetry. The crucible
of language plucks
at wristbones bound by steel cuffs
as much or more than any heartstring.
And on the radio today I heard a poem.
Like lead tipped arrows
Vibrating through the speakers
into my knees the poem chanted:
The Chief Poets again are troubled
by the Verse: right to bare arms; right to bare
arms; right to bare arms. While the Poets cloistered
In their cantankerous offices
Duke it out over the originating poet’s
Intention and present-day interpretation
in handwritten memos
I hunt for bodies
Scarred and bruised by bullets
And barrel-slaps. I wonder
What poets are reading
and what poets are writing
the news. I fall to the ground and ask
for some common sense to guide
the Poets. Guns make Death
Too easy, so commonplace,
We poets don’t even have time
To write elegies for every fallen
Face. Dear Elder Poets
As you fight with your words
Over the meaning of words
Remember us, the poets on the streets
Our spray cans, our number two pencils,
our breathy hello’s and goodbye’s
trying as diligently as we may
to keep up with you. See what bullets
being used for these days
There is not country here to defend
Only a map of lives crisscrossing
The globe like veins, allow
Us a moment of outrageous metaphor, quarantine
Guns for the third act of plays
And nothing more and nothing more
And nothing more.