A light cracked the door,
And we heard:
"All rise."
He was experiencing Justice
Behind the glass, in a box.
He scratched and stretched
Skin over his eyes and stubbled face,
Needing a fix for his appearance.
Something was unbalanced
Before me.
Our view was that of figures bending,
Whispering inaudibly,
With ear pieces and muffled mikes,
Suspending us, and time.
At recess we talked of trials and errors,
And recalled the blind man's bluff;
Then someone called us over.
A solemnity plea was set before the judge.
Did he hear:
"Just over the limit...
Machines have a rate of variability..."
He wore no belt or laces,
And probably no socks.
That could make him unbalanced.
"All rise."
Again and again.
I almost fell to my knees,
Pressed and raised my hands
To surrender.
And I was just a witness.