Observations made while hanging
out down at the courthouse
Hard-bodied, hard-boiled men with an air
of authority, betraying no sign of softness,
they stride the halls of power, stiff collared
and cuffed, serge stretched tight shoulder
to shoulder, in their mirror-toed wingtips,
and brush cuts.
A cloud of harshness lingers in their wake
wherever they go, invoking the faint sound
of drums, bugles, and hob-nailed boots,
sending a shiver of sadness through me
as I remember what Margaret Atwood said:
Men are afraid women will laugh at them,
and women are afraid men will kill them.
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