richard krech attorney richard krech is a survivor of the 1960s poetry revolution. after parking his muse for 25 years, he has emerged from retirement into the light. he lives in berkeley, calif. the poem 'in chambers' which was originally printed in a DPress chapbook, the 1932 3Af Claret, which was a very limited edition & the publisher, Richard Denner, has given permission to re-print it. krech1@mindspring.com   Virtual Justice Video hook-up w/ the county jail. In between live arraignments and calendar matters the Robe two-way video conferences w/ a concrete cell miles away across the freeway. Dejected distracted jail-uniformed men standing next to deputy sheriffs plead guilty to infractions and misdemeanors for time served and probation. A promise of immediate freedom for a hook chained to their back for three years. [Probation violation hearings are perfunctory affairs] The bargained-for illusion of freedom memorialized in the video-tape of the judicial proceeding in virtual open court.   Boiling Water The cool air of the evening thru the slid-up window crossing my consciousness. The faint modulated hum of the world, a car accelerating into the distance. In the next room the water is making boiling sounds as dinner cooks. I look at the objects in my room, the accumulation of a lifetime. "We use things to try to get beyond them" I wrote in 1968. Still waiting 35 years later for the transcendence to happen. At least dinner will come sooner.   Everything No songs to sing. I put away my notebook. Glance at the cover of the book I'm reading which lies on my table. The photographic cover makes it look like a video that I don't know how to access. I feel empty but not hungry. I blame the early-setting Winter sun for my not watering the lawn.   I pick up this tablet start writing & regain that sense of purpose of trying to craft that thought, so brilliant so lyrical so hot!   Trying to write a novel about no thing.   In Chambers "It's the most high stakes poker game in the world" he said, exaggerating only slightly, leaning over in his chair towards mine as we spoke in quiet voices heard by no one else in the chamber. Advocates and adversaries sitting in a circle as they have for years. The black robe in the center of attention, the center of power the robe changing its inhabitant on a cyclical basis. Showing enough of your hand to create a threat to the opponent. Keeping as much powder and ammunition dry as possible for use in battle if it comes. Presenting technical legal issues or broad constitutional claims always against a factual background limited by provable facts and evidentiary objections of your opponents. Always the facts. Yr skill or that of the adversary must always bow to the provable facts. Yet the sieve of evidentiary objections of "hearsay" and 352 and 1101(b), the sieve of "judicial discretion" strains that factual material so thin sometimes so fat at others that its rough weave resembles the truth like a general outline but details, perhaps crucial perhaps not, are distorted. The advocates and adversaries discuss with each other trade facts and arguments and often turn to the robe for approval or to tweak the deal one way or another. The currency of these transactions are paid in bodies and time. Time taken from a life. There is no symbolism here. The words are used to describe exactly what occurs. Time taken from a life in being. Occasionally, the adversaries try to take a whole life all at once and destroy it.

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