Gil Hoy

Threw It Away Years Ago

I’ve no use for
a stainless steel
lightweight, corrosive

resistant contraption that encumbers
my wrist

and can’t tell me anything
useful anyway:

Like when my kids might grow up,
my heart will stop beating

or the last polar bear
will step off the last piece

of melting sea ice
and silently disappear.

Gil Hoy tries cases before juries of his peers in Boston, Massachusetts and searches for winning poems in his legal arguments.