Lawyers don’t have
poems written about them,
about what they do feel
experience they seem/are
separate species apart
abandoned stranded;
a commercial entity
made of contractual &
persuasive arguments
for and against.

They inhabit a place
where words live where
meanings are fungible
malleable but very strict
(meaning they mean what
they mean until they need
not)…all toward an end
a resignation a
judgment of validity and
assignment.

It is a helpless sadness
…that place where words
are money are twins under
the skin; boundaries
of battles raised lost won
all as proxy personalities…
one step removed, avatars
jousting on judicial fiat on
borderless battlefield
with paper tracked
casualty.

At once hero/foe, a
helpful instigator they 
reach…simultaneous
interceptions; one hand
birthing freedom via
repression’s death,
another destroying
latitude (creating wealth)
contradiction by career
by habit, by design they
are and aren’t what we do
and don’t want.