bailiff
of uncivil law

predated by a seizing bailiff
as predicted
the cost for keeping conscience sweet
my caressing photo kit
long silent for poetry
now silent for eternity
a consequence of metering
the corruption of uncivil law

she wore disdain the bailiff
a funeral prinz–net
closed across her face
arrogant as conviction
an archaic heirach
eyes closed to the active world
judging not by cultural contribution
just tit dropping and easy marionette

perhaps if i were given proof
that all we’d ever done
us colleagues in the corral
destroyed its own intent
could i state my doubt aloud
or suppress the subtle evidence
burk the person proving

yes
i should have paid the revenue
but they assured they’d free and never did
the cash of mine they’d stolen “accidentally”
redundancy had paid to me
all those years ago

and they may have done
if english civil law
had thought balance
worth the pence of phoning up
and hearing each opinion