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The Grand Jury

In the Grand Jury Room nobody spits
inappropriately. In rational array
cases appear. Each paneled juror sits
deliberately alert, as at a play.

Here's murder, arson, terrible to view,
crack cocaine, possession, sale, and use,
children maimed and ravished, not a few,
in what is called, in gentle terms, abuse.

So much to do, so many lives to spare,
careers in law enforcement to advance.
The fife and drum of justice everywhere
Provides the music for this antic dance.

The jurors, somber, civil, keep aloof
from prejudice and pity, as they swore,
not to quiver as they wolf down proof
and ask to be presented nothing more.

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Conrad Geller has been a poet since Harry Truman was president. More than a hundred of his poems have appeared in print and electronic media, and his prizes include the Bibliophilos Prize, the Charles Prize, and various awards from the Poetry Society of Virginia. A Bostonian by birth and preference, he is now living in Northern Virginia.