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Losing the Job


Losing the Job

He’d thought nothing of it
when he told his ten year olds
the job of the Judicial Branch
is choosing the President.

Civics and government
being what they are,
he was trying to be funny.

You find small ways to amuse
yourself, saying the same thing
September after September.

He would’ve loved some future
bureaucrat in the back row,
“In the book it says interpret the laws.

Then they could have discussed
power and money, how America
really works, or doesn’t.

He’d subtitle his lecture
Discrepancy. He’d come up with
analogies they could relate to,

like the gap between who
grandma thinks they are and who
they were with their friends.

The poet in his mind
fumbled for weeks
with “tenure” and “secure,”

but in the end they only rhymed,
which was never enough.

What he’d wanted to say met
what he’d been able to say
each day and shook hands

in the parking lot. Until now,
he’d been sparing his family from having
to be careful all over again.

Up ahead was the recovery he’d been coveting.
This long road home toward accuracy.
One final farewell to discrepancy.

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