for Merrick Garland, nominee to the Supreme Court
As a boy he made it through one Cub Scout meeting.
All the other kids had names like Derrick,
Toby, James; their dads had names like Merrick,
Russel, Palmer. Jewy Jacob’s fleeting
and failed efforts at befriending, then competing
with these flaxen youth? Loss. At best, a pyrrhic
win: to later tell real friends satiric
versions in which he quits; he’s not retreating
into buck-toothed shyness. Years after, tall
now, orthondtized, fit, and proudly queer,
still he feels a twinge when some vampiric
preppy is proposed as someone all
right-thinking people must support, mere
acceptability as panegyric.