Do you feel lucky?
Since Bosch got his first name partially from Harry 'Dirty Harry' Callahan, you know the punks he encounters are in for a hard day when they smugly point out that they have more rights than Captain Ahab's sock drawer.
In L.A., when cops dispense with due process and take matters into their own hands, it's called "the brass verdict"; in Northern Ontario, the phenomenon's called "redneck justice." Seems it's a universal, no matter which way you scope it. Glad poetry's my game (and poetic justice is my ownly aim [for which I have a licence . . . given to me by Coach House Press . . . Egawds! . . . thirty-three years ago]).
Nope. Thirty-three ain't a lucky number in my books, not in all thirty-three of 'em . . . Good thing my Ed.'s got my back :).
No comments:
Post a Comment