of criminals and obligation

if there are any criminal aspects to 
be considered in my character or 
personality they are few. they aren't 
loud or daring, the sorts of things 
serious or enthusiastic criminals would 
take credit for: no assaults no murders 
no stolen cars (although I did once enjoy 
a very hyperactive & profitable summer 
with my friend Casey in High School 
shoplifting this medium-sized plaza 
for just about anything a teenager 
could stuff into a bookbag ...) 

nor does my appearance inspire immediate concern, 
sober, outrageously intoxicated or any of 
the many, many stages in between: in my 
private thoughts I demand a peculiar scrutiny 
regardless of success/failure ratios 
and likelihoods and reasonability and 
so forth, but ... socially I am often docile 
and quite willing to betray honor for 
practical convenience ... 

this to say: some dozen, give or take, open-
container tickets have been written in my 
name, and a proportionate number of hours 
have been spent by yours, truly in compact rooms 
of justice mostly filled with the normal & 
obedient (or at least presenting as) as we vary 
our routine to preserve some larger order: 
and in my voice I've heard the same lame words 
that I've heard of others in that poor situation, 
words of conformity to a half/logic, 
brief monologue of an imbecile 
to their accuser/protector: 
yes, sir: all truth must live 
in the shadows of lies and 
mistruths
and misunderstandings. 
yes, sir: our hands join to others, join to others 
and our pledges grow even in the sins of 
grief and worse 
and yet we know 
our stories because we have no other 
choice 
but to live them. 








**** 

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