Sixty years too late
I slump over
ancient oak furniture,
pebble-smoothed by generations of
in dingy, white-bricked basement,
jury holding area,
Dedham Court, High St., 1987.
Dressed in tie and jacket disguise,
I stare through barred windows,
listen for your footsteps overhead.
Oh, Nick and Bart, I would save you!
Speeding down Rt. 1,
past Dedham Mall,
past Toys R Us,
past Levitz forever furniture sale,
hairpin turn into parking lot,
vault through Toyota window,
bolt into courthouse,
wait my turn, barely,
pacing fighter, straining
for bell, for intercom, for chalk-screech
voice of court officer, or
menacing, painted, pointing fingernail.
Up the stairs I fly!
Throw open the doors of injustice!
Demand instant impanelment of myself!
(Or would I be chosen by chance: dungarees, beard
And then, then, oh wonderful then:
Beatific smile! as Judge Thayer sputters,
* * *
On green peeling wall,
only xerox clipping remembers:
"60 YEARS AGO--SACCO AND VANZETTI--NO ONE SEEMS TO CARE"
* * *
It would have been so easy:
I would have done it for you,
where they only took your lives,
but too many red lights,
too much history in the way.
October 19, 1987