A Painful Case

Jim lived a life where things made sense.
The things he did, the things he saw
conformed to rules of evidence;
he was a Master of the Law
of the unintended consequence.

It served him well, one would think.
Our Jim made fortunes by deceit,
by playing legal tiddlywinks
for the better felons on the street;
if conscience quibbled, there was drink.

It never did. He loved the scam.
He’d watch his clients skip away
from their appointments with the slam
with cockeyed pride that made him say
“I lie, therefore I am.”

Were they guilty? Goodness, yes.
Did it matter? Not to Jim:
they paid him well for his success
at mesmerising every dim
jury with his ferrety finesse.

Then Vinnie Spoons ran amok.
Lacking the requisite retainer,
he engaged Jimmy with a Glock;
the case was truly a no-brainer:
he shot the phone, shot the clock,

shot Jim, leaving more
loopholes than the law allows.
Sometimes Justice kicks the door
and has its way in the bawdyhouse
we choose to call a world. Encore.