I did a crime and was brought to court, an outlaw, unworthy of applause,
So he gave me punishments as heavy as the cause,
For him to move forward and progress,
For him to step backward and regress.
And with this sentence I feel like a master,
But the strength to choose I could not muster.
He is a tease and a taunt.
His body is pleased and is also gaunt.
He is the accuser and the accused, the judge and the lawyer,
The jailer and the freer,
All rolled into one.
His hands move, little by little, in increments.
Freedom and punishments.
Possibilities and finities.
And with this, the lines have been crossed, and the race tracks have been built,
Him and I,him and I,
Are the two sources of the crime’s guilt.
photo from: ci.berkeley.ca.us