Judge Tom

I've seen this before:
You appear in front of some
World-weary, suspicious judge
Who used to care about things
But now doesn't have to
And you are amazed and astonished
Like some Biblical prophet
At what comes springing from his lips
In response to your argument,
Your argument built like a brick cardhouse:
A foundation of sturdy opinions past
The framing, some wooden construct
That everybody acknowledges
So you're safe there,
But the paint, shingles and soffit
Are what are seen, what is so shiny and new
And impressive, even if you do say so yourself,
Only to get some response from leftfield
Out in the tall grass
Or he wants you to write it for him
Or decide it with the cooperation
Of counsel for the other side
Who hates you and your client
And mistrusts you both
And called you a son of a bitch
To his wife last night
Muttering under the thin sheets
And you actually liked the guy

And after its all through,
Your client is wondering why he wrote you that check
And wondering if he can put a stop payment on it
And questioning your education and experience
And contemplating a bar complaint
Or some tv lawyer who looks so trustworthy
And doesn't mind suing other lawyers

So, who would you know who could bend the governer's ear
And get you an appointment as the junior judge in the circuit
So you could sit in the tall grass,
On the sturdy oaken bench, and suffer no fools gently,
And spring forth pearls like a toiling oyster
Lying on a sugary beach on your vacation
With the problems of others, a sad memory soon forgotten,
Behind sunglasses and suntan lotion,
A cool beverage in your hand.

Ahh, tenure.