Justice Jackson’s Odyssey
There they were, unseen
Two old white guys
sounding the sirens of q-slime politics
trump-contorted to the core
steeped in lifelong privilege
pickled in juice of the Confederacy
unable to detect the winds of change
unwilling to catch a ride on
the winds of liberty.
There they were,
immune to correction
too bent out of shape to admit defeat
there they were unseen, hiding,
cowering in a cloak room
unwilling to show their faces
refusing to show respect
for a a black lady with glasses
a judge who had outsmarted 47 old white guys,
out-maneuvered them with her integrity.
The Judge, by her expertise, maintaining
professional demeanor, steering
skilfully through straits
of false accusation, navigating
judiciously o’er currents
of curated confusion
past confederate collusion
and priileged illusion.
There she was, even
advocating Antonin originalism.
Jackson stood her ground
like an old hickory
planted by the water
doing what she oughter
to hold high
the scales of Justice
at the highest level.
