I heard

that the perfect magistrate

would judge him like a Kantian

and punish him like a Utilitarian;

 

Maybe then the world wouldn’t be so fucked up.

 

Maybe then the cosmos would shuffle into line,

and karma would sync up with consequence

and justice would act as an engineer to the defective

functionality of

Fate.

 

The autopsy

concocted headlines that could

entertain the most boring of

Sunday Times readers.

Have you heard?

There are pictures.

That heartless fuck.

He should be shot. 

 

 

But maybe,

think intentionality,

maybe

guilt deprives him of rest

when his eyes shutter closed,

maybe

his tears could irrigate

a field of new life,

a thousand golden roses and tulips to atone for

a mistake.

 

Maybe monsters only exist in fiction.