Criminal Law. 3:12 PM.

There are those who ask question after question, merely because they don’t understand a particular legal issue…I have been there. Sometimes, the black letter law just fails to take root. That’s not the case here. Time after time, class after class, case after case, his hand goes up. We have all seen them before. Everyone else agrees with the judge? Swoosh. Up goes his hand. Who cares to argue this point or that in front of the class? Swoosh. There he is again. Rhetorical “So does everyone understand now?” Swoosh. Swoosh followed by discussion that has only a tangential relationship to the case or law at bar. In torts, he uses the Wagon cases to talk about abortion law. In con law, he takes the opportunity presented in Macculloch v Maryland to opine about the most recent local changes to negligence law as it regards type 2 diabetes. Makes no sense? Doesn’t care. Swoosh. Student body complaining about campus problems? Swoosh. He wants to know what’s up with the stamps involving a famous alumnus. “I am just making the argument”… Always talking. Always has something to say. Always must be heard. Always.

Swoosh.

This was the poem I wrote in class today:

I can’t even write
Words that describe
With any accuracy
The determined
And draining movement
Of each empty moment
Represented by this class.

Each case takes an eternity.
And though it feels like much longer
Each class is but an hour.
Dourly we review the fragile lives
The sad pathetic twinkles
once met with criminal intent
Became immortal.

So their causes now ours
We fight for them,
Based on ideals forged
Within our shelters.
Away from the pain of cold nights
And hot blood.
Safe inside we judge
And laugh and preen.

yeah. I know its cliched. fuck off.

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