Ezekiel saw wheels revolve in wheels
supporting Him who dwells above the skies.
Uncertain if this vision were quite real,
but most explicit: all around were eyes.
Beside the ditch that watered Babylon
where grieving landless transients were kept,
recalling rain-fed fields of days long gone,
the prophet rose, where others sat and wept.
God's cedar footstool Solomon had built
reduced to ashes from the roof to vault
reverberates still in our people's guilt
'Cause history itself is all our fault.
Attentive readers see, if they're astute
Our Lord is ever with us, in galut.
Eight Justices demurred to criticize
a criminal among them on the bench.
Emoluments discretely on the side
taint all the nine with one pervasive stench.
The Thomases craved life-long to belong
and Reagan's party opened wide a door.
Dismissing questions of what's "right" or"wrong"
proferring wealth, it sought an eager whore.
Our Framers did their best to insulate
our highest court from politics, and Class.
But never dreamt an ethos of Class-hate
would saddle us with such a venal ass.
"[O]n good behaviour" rather than "for life"
requires we ask: "Who's bought the judge's wife?"
Disdainful of the noisesome, ill-bred mob
prince Charles played polo on his mummy's wealth.
Bereft, obliged long last to get a job
his fingers point to less than sterling health.
Diana was all Britain's princess bride
adored for charity, we felt she cared.
To coronate that woman at his side
the staunchest monarchists confess, they're scared.
An institution of another age;
John Locke explained its deep redundancy.
Camilla's never been the latest rage
but now she's stirring passions on the street.
A third King Charles! His namesakes are long dead.
We'll see how long this one can keep his head.
The lyrics raced in flames across the sky,
an alphabet no living mortals know.
Invisible to those who weren't high,
if there were any such, at such that show.
Fierce Revelation of the Fungal Truth,
as Dionysus manifests on stage,
accessible to California's youth,
amidst the strait-laced Ronald Reagan Age.
Old neural circuits latent in our minds,
still close when prompted with the proper key.
Cubensis makes the alkaloid that binds,
but never shared its rationale with me.
Ventura's long since swallowed by LA,
but we remember when gods came to play.
Chief justice Roberts chooses to be blind
as SCOTUS blunders off the moral cliff.
So confidant the voters wouldn't mind
that Thomas swims in unreported gifts.
Pacific jaunts that eldest justice took,
where Krakatoa's new volcanoes grow
are nowhere on his tax-accountant's books;
emoluments from "dear friend" TrammelCrow.
Jane Roberts also profits on the side
when litigants desire her husband's ear.
No penalty's incurred for laws defied
when perpetrators know they have no peer.
"[O]n good behaviour" rather than "for life"
requires we ask: "who's bought the judge's wife?"
