It was a pale imitation of justice, but all in all
we agreed the testimony rang true. Outside,
the shadows of the houses swallowed
the shadows of the pigeons without flinching.
Some things are easier to absorb than others,
said the judge, using white gloves and what
we finally understood to be an invisible rope.
Before that he’d been trapped in a glass box
which most likely represented the transparent
vows they’d first spoken on that rainy June day,
back when we were so concerned with our finery
we missed the nerves wired under the words.
MICHAEL BAZZETT’s poems have appeared in Ploughshares, Massachusetts Review, Pleiades, Oxford Poetry, Hayden’s Ferry Review and Best New Poets. He is the author of The Imaginary City (Organic Weapon Arts, 2012) and The Unspoken Jokebook, forthcoming from Organic Weapon. His verse translation of the Popol Vuh is forthcoming from Milkweed Editions. He lives in Minneapolis with his wife and two children.
