Karl Koweski

blind judgement

despite the money spent on lawyers,
regardless of his family’s best hopes,
Alex stared down the probability
of a seven-year prison sentence
for trafficking sixty pounds of weed.

at the hearing, the man queued ahead
was convicted of kidnapping and raping
an eight-year-old child and sentenced
to four years, then gently led away
calm, serene as a pampered politician.

when Alex as called before the judge
and his plea agreement read with its
attendant seven-year term, Alex balked.

“why can’t I have four years like that
pedophile you just slapped on the wrist?”

the judge, old and grim as any magistrate
you can imagine, furrowed his brow, said
“well, you can opt for a blind judgement
in which I decide what you’ll serve
between four years and twenty years.”
Alex’s anger became a tiger in the court.
“you’re telling me you’d give me
more time for toting a bushel of weed
than that sick fuck molesting kids?

“I’m saying it is a blind judgement.
you will have to take a gamble if
you want to find out how I would rule
against a man trafficking sixty pounds
of marijuana across my state lines.”

“you look like a man more forgiving of
a piece of shit raping sixty pounds of kid.”

the expensive lawyer chose this moment
to interject himself, counseling Alex
on just how notorious this judge
had proven himself to be on how
hard he ruled against drug crimes.

“sounds like he’s hard on kids, too,”
Alex muttered before agreeing to
the plea deal, the seven-year sentence.
the justice system, once again, triumphant.

 

Karl Koweski has recently published two books with Roadside Press, Abandoned By All Things and Under Normal Circumstances. He lives in Alabama with his and kids. He prefers Flash Gordon to Luke Skywalker and Neal Diamond to Elvis Presley.