the trial of the century

summoned

for jury duty, i immediately

try to think of ways

to get out of it.

work,

allergies,

travel, or lack of interest.

my sunning hours

in the back yard

are now from ten to twelve

in the morning

because of the upcoming winter

solstice,

plus i don't like eating out

of vending machines

or food trucks

in front of the courthouse for a week.

i have dietary restrictions.

they don't care

so i say, okay,

let's do this. but i want a big

case

i tell the judge.

like the Scopes Monkey Trial,

or OJ, 

Johnny Depp

and Amber Heard, the Rosenbergs,

or

the Lindberg baby, or maybe

Leopold and Loeb.

something fun and juicy.

i want to decide someone's

fate,

to be the right hand

of God

in deciding the future of this

criminal's nefarious

activities.

alleged,

the judge says, alleged criminal.

the defendant is innocent

until proven guilty.

yeah, right, i say. pffft. right.

and by the way,

this is case about jaywalking,

he says.

not murder or kidnapping,

then he asks

me if i'm on any meds,

or if i have regular sessions

with a psychiatrist,

receiving 

shock treatments.

maybe, i tell him.

why? it's sort of none of your

beeswax,

your honor. my medical records

are completely

confidential and sealed

until twenty years after my death.

okay, buddy, he says,

okay,

you're dismissed.