Among Cruel Children
Law’s rule is flourishing only where
The body politic’s not bruised to pleasure spite
And turn all hope for justice to despair,
But blossoms into beauty born of right.
O horn-rimmed Barr, “fighting back” there,
Are you the law, or just the arm of might?
O student of kabuki, Trump’s tweedy whore,
How can we know the dancing from the war?
