Law School And I

Given my current status as a law student, it's natural that some may wonder about my take on the "One L" (i.e. first year) experience. That, I believe, would make rather dull reading compared to what's already been written on that topic. Furthermore one needs distance from an experience in order to comment meaningfully upon it. Ok, enough rationalizing reticence. What I will share with you, dear readers (hypocrite readers, my siblings, my twins) is the draft of a poem (I seem only capable of writing drafts!) tangentially or superficially about the similarities between verse and the law. This poem [see below] represents the first and so far only encroachment of the law into my "poetic consciousness," if you will.
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A Law Student’s Ode to Wallace Stevens

The law consists of words that are acts.
Poetry consists of words that are acts;
one is refined war, the other refined dance.
I picture you Wallace
a magician disguised
as a grey-haired, Anglo-Saxon in suit and tie.
I picture myself
a musician disguised
as a grey-haired negro in suit and tie.
We of the nomadic tribe
wander the wide deserts of English
searching for sustenance
not in the fruit of the cactus
but in the interstices
between wind and silence.
We walk the streets of America
on our way to the well
two strangers side-by-side
briefcases in hand
a purling in our skulls
revising the lyrics, the steps, the stomps
of another rain dance
for our thirsting people.
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