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Have You Been Served?
by Rick Tornello

Dramatis Persona:
Writer
Lawyer
Server
 
INTRODUCTION:
 
From the hands of the server, served
a sequel, the never ending tale,
no sir, it’s not SQL, GOOGLE or ORACLE
but a tail throughout history recorded:
all the lawyers killed, suggested,
bains of civilization, decreed.
 
My situation?
the charges, claimed in fact?
Copyright infringement, no erasing that
Documentation
presented with witness supported
and no erasing that.
 
PART  I
 
An out of breathe face, delivered post haste.
I opened the offered letter hand extended
(Thought I initially, why not Fedex?)
To my surprise the charges I’m faced.
 A smile a bow and  “SERVED”.
 
To my surprise the charges I’m faced:
To face a tort.
I stole from myself,
In court,
The storybook lines, words and thoughts.
From myself, in court
How can this be?
 
My initial guess? An early April trick
No less
Highly imagined and pay played out.
This is much too absurd to believe any of his words.
 
“NO truly sir, YOU ARE SERVED.”
 
But when I think about it, some,
surprise of surprises can
in this world can be I delivered such
that I sue myself in a court of law
this is too much.
 
A copyright crime committed
from where did I ever get the time or
the gear to… get these thoughts? Read on
the  charges to me laid upon
claimed by a lawyer representing me now to wit
states my dream state stated in private council
ago, a bit
of statements made I, a year or so ago,
and now it, the injured party  to wit
(a nitwit most assuredly),
further states says I made mentioned on line that I
make no mistake
from my dreams created, derived ideas,
ideas that lead to stories and poems did take
herewith
that, from which, most assuredly,
my income flows, I owe
and so now myself I owe
royalties and fees to said legal weasel
to and of whom I have no recall?
 
My notes, my writing, in the hands of the court and lawyer
A crime against my self, discovery and a defense I must show!
 
 
PART II
 
And so I read on,
(this must be a dream to write about later  me thinks
me thinks too a night mares ride to later wake and laugh).
In my minds eye’s mind you, and I to you secretly whispered,
the claim, from  lawyers talk, sly translated
to me bye my now dear new friend,
a lawyer of dear cost and most hopefully sane
He mind fully states, head bowed in solemn mode:
“to the gods in their secret abodes,
god bless those who sue the ones I love.”
Then do I detect, he
chokes back a laugh? view a smirk ?
twists his neck under his shirt’s suit
silk so fine, disassembles his finest face to me,
“Ah yes, this can be? Did you in fact state the obvious stated here?
And did your dream state inform you before this made complaint
in an honest attempt to resolve as explained and dissolve this issue?”
 
“What? Are you all crazy? How could myself not
inform myself of what I was thinking short  of schizo phrenia?
Of course not! And no amnesia.
There never was, I talk to myself yes but…
This is beyond sanity, and then this?” I sputtered
“The world is totally amiss.”
 
Says he calm and reserved, “Claim madness? A good defense
Except, ah I must admit, artists and writers
mentally
are assumed,
accepted,
to straddle that fence
betwixt and between the real and made up sublime.”
 
“Straddling truth and metaphysical fairy tales,
as you, a lawyer, don’t?” is my retort I yell.
 
“That is no never mind,” says he.
With a wave of his hand like magician again,
“That is no never mind.”
 
Bold faced to him, “Exactly!
Just represent me, rid me this tort in court
Of rights of copy and mental pains.”
 
And upon deep quick thought  I counter with,
“Sue for wrongful claims
Sleepless nights, no writing rights
Loss of income, hair and … false blame.”
 
“Very good,” says he,
continuing  a smile upon his face,
“I couldn’t have done better.
The first will cost, you the second
should we prevail, and money, gained
will increase you.
How beneficial, how grand a scheme
And from his great chair arose
hand extended a slight bow posed.
 
“From whom will this money come from in the second case?”
A question I extended, not yet my hand.
His still extended hand; a smile wider still pasted upon his face.
 
“From your alter ego of course.  I’m sure he has sufficient funds.“
 
“This is alice in lawyer land.
that  same sane said person you will draw
blood sweat and tears, not to mention funds
is no one other than myself!
 
Thief.
 
That same cat smile, pearly whites showing,
“But when you win and collect I just take a third
Your stories will be your own
anon
I give you my word
you will have full access
To all your words.”
 
Now, Hands folded across each other, waited
and then the contract binding
pushed,
“Sign here. I’m all yours for the cost
here underlined in red of course.”
 
“Absurd,”  How I groaned.
“Oh what hell,  pray tell,
what gods have I wronged past dates?
I am no apostate to deserve this fate.”
 
A nightmare’s dream I reiterate:
Lawyers to the right and wrong of me
From my bank account they rob me
to save me from me
so that I:
I can continue to smith my words,
hammer out my living
so not to a hunger’s death greeting me,
to sleep  a sleep of health,
and disbar the whole lot of them
from my mind and begin my life anon.
though with a lighter bank load.
 
PART III
 
And so my friends do watch, take heed
what you say to whom
him and her, and to self to you
and aloud refrain or you too
can and will suffer,  you used against
by the creative arts of the rhetorician
short on scruples and long ambition
needing to make payments on (you fill the question)?
and desires the centuries given reputation.
 
PART IV
 
I awoke, in a sweat
Bolt upright
I sprung from my bed
A dream a nightmare
And not the truth
In the mirror I looked
Not a grasshopper or a bug
My own unshaved mug
To the mirror I kissed
And down to the kitchen
A fresh pot of coffee the computer  did give.
 
THE END


By, Rick Tornello 2014 & The Village idiot Press