Law School Dawn

From upstairs in the law school

the view of the frozen Charles

looks too marmoreal to flatter

plain old red brick Boston.

I retreated here two hours

before dawn to prowl my notebooks

for phrases to argue a case

in student court. But I find

nothing about the law: only

quotations from Wallace Stevens,

my favorite corporate attorney.

I’m certain to lose my case

and earn a professor’s rebuke,

but the slab of ice on the river

weighs on me like my conscience.

A black current flows beneath

even the most solemn texts,

those we’re afraid to memorize.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

William Doreski lives in Peterborough, New Hampshire. He has taught at several colleges and universities. His most recent book of poetry is Dogs Don't Care (2022). He has published three critical studies, including Robert Lowell’s Shifting Colors. His essays, poetry, fiction, and reviews have appeared in various journals.