and rip Scalia’s spirit as it falls.
Inside, bold lies may bend us to our knees
and rattle glass that shake these hallowed halls.
Lead voices at the hearing speak of law
yet minutes into speech, a sentence shrill:
malodorous, her laugh; demonic scowl:
Her urgency grows stronger as she howls.
She reads from Weiner’s laptop: “There’s no cheer
but tempered with behavior not so nice.”
There’s yearbook nonsense, ice cube fights and beer
unlike her Bill exempt from all his vice.
The witch corroborates her vision’s haul:
she is that evil come this morn to call.