by Jim Warner
Lawyers make great poets
because they understand the
economy of language, how
to spend it, and the value of
words. Poets make poor
lawyers because we spend
our words on the broken wing
of a sparrow in the middle of
a neighbor’s yard. The black
twist of bird bone hallow betrays
the ruffle of its feather.I
remember only once hearing
a judges robe flutter so, its
black creases exchanging the
value of trust below blind
marble metaphors. The poet
will wait a whole day, in the
rain even, just to learn how
a sparrow struggles with flight.
I watched from a hallway as
they handcuffed the birdbone
wrists of little boys, so un birdlike
but caught within the talons of
black robed economics. The lawyer
will spend all day writing poems
I cannot understand. The judge
is not a sparrow, and I am not
alone in watching broken wings struggle.
Jim Warner is the Managing Editor of Quiddity International Literary Journal and Public Radio Program at Benedictine University and the author of two poetry collections Too Bad It’s Poetry and Social Studies (Paper Kite Press). His poetry has appeared in various journals including The North American Review, PANK Magazine, and Drunken Boat. Jim received his MFA at Wilkes University.
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