The University of Texas at Austin

Law in Popular Culture collection

The Legal Studies Forum
Volume 30, Number 1/2 (2006)
reprinted by permission Legal Studies Forum

Lawyers & Poets
Far Travels

DAVID R. DOW
________________________


The Night Before the Morning

                    — for I.G.

On the night before the morning
That the doctor called to tell me
The tumors had spread I dreamed that
The cancer cells were the German
Army finally retreating
From the futile effort to take
Leningrad and I was about
To wake you to tell you that I
Had wonderful news when the phone's
Ring stole me from my reverie
And the doctor said that he was
Sorry for calling so early
And for having to report that
There was just nothing left to do.

On the night before that morning
Remember how we watched the blue
Sky gradually fade to black
And for a moment the sky seemed
To press closer to earth and to
Cover us like a gossamer.
Remember how for that moment
The sky was empty of its stars
And we huddled there eyes upward
Searching together for heaven
Until first Venus followed by
Jupiter appeared and I pulled
You nearer to me and pointed
To the silver sliver of moon
Which hung low in the icy sky.

On a night like that night only
Fourteen months ago you noticed

[427]

 
A flickering star and asked me
How far it was and I said I
Think that's Pollux and it's forty
Trillion miles away and you said
(Do you remember?) Pollux is
An ugly word and you renamed it.
So tonight while you slept I found
Our star again and sat down to
Calculate how many years its
Light had been spiraling through the
Universe searching out my eyes
Except that now that it has found
Them I am no longer who I
Was on that night you named it or
Who I was even yesterday
When we kissed for the tumor is
Clamping down on the vessel that
Brings oxygen to my riddled
Brain and what happens is that thoughts
I do not recognize as my
Own crowd out the familiar
Idea of me and that must
Finally be the end of me.

On the night before the morning
Forty trillion miles from its world
And forty years later your star's
Light struck my eyes yet once again
Forty years after the day our
World was born when I held you and
Made a promise to you that I
Would be here with you, forever.

[428]

 
Mourning in Carolina

Summertime hail pellets the size of sweet peas
Ping off the rusty metal roof of the twenty
By twenty foot cabin where I've come to mourn
You at the top of the tallest mountain at Carolina's
Farthest western edge. Atonal vibrations beneath
The surface of my skin are a warning from the warring
Wavelengths of my being that I can't be cancelled out,
For now. I do not want to die I just want to feel
Like I want to. At my feet the Doberman bitch nurses
Four three day old orange kittens whose mother died
Birthing them. The storm stops as sudden as a fish dart,
And the dog pushes the kittens off her teat, nudging them
With her snout onto a pile of hay beneath the cast iron
Wood stove. Through a wink in the clouds over Tennessee
I can see Saturn and Venus dancing their figure eight.
Overhead I think I spot Polaris then realize that four
Hundred generations from now the earth's wobble means
That Polaris won't be the north star anymore anyway
And somehow that thought comforts me. Mist is rising
From the creek where it's time for me to go catch breakfast
For the dog. She raises her head and looks at me:
Heavy lidded and expectant, forlorn and wise. If the puppies
Come today I hope I won't have to shoot the kittens. 

[429]

 
Euclidean Mergings

Archimedes moved from Syracuse to
Alexandria
And rented the flat
Where Euclid had lived and discovered the
Truth that God wanted
To keep hidden deep
Inside the human brain where a cluster
Of cells half the size
Of a pinhead does
Nothing but store every memory
You have ever had
In luminous and
Flawless detail waiting to play them back
In the cold nano
Second between the
Fact of death and the awareness of it.

Euclid wrested the secret from himself
In the dream where he
Reached into his head
With two gold toothpicks and speared five simple
Axioms plus five
Common notions and
Woke and began combining them into
Everything that
There is except for
The single thing he most needed to know.

Too awed to sleep in the presence of the
Immortal spirit
Archimedes sat
Contemplating whether anything more
Could be said when he
Heard a voice within
And found Euclid in his library at
Work by a dripless
Candle talking in
A language that he did not understand
And on the table
Archimedes saw
An elliptic sphere and gasped with certain

[430]


Recognition and
A startled Euclid
Looked up as if to speak but instead stepped
Through the wall into
Space leaving behind
The sphere on the surface of which he had
Drawn intersecting
Parallel lines and
Next to which lay a notebook where he had
Scrawled solutions to
Problems that were not
Yet invented which some take to be a
Sign of madness but
Archimedes knew
To be proof that this is not all there is.

At the edge of the universe he wrote
There is a place I
Have been between the
Present and the past and between the here
And the beyond and
There all lines are round
And there all edges are smooth and when I
Am there every
Mystery yields but
One and all there is is not enough to
Explain how any
Element can be
Made into any other but a cold
Heart will never be
Warm and no man
Will ever be anything he is not.

Here he said is proof. Take it as you will:
If you were to take
This piece of paper
And fold it thus and so twisting the long
Axis one hundred
And eighty degrees
And attaching one end to the other
No longer would there
Be an inside or
An outside because the two sides would merge

[431]


And what would remain
Would not be a side
At all because it would be all there is.
This perfection lies
In two dimensions
Or even four but not in three where the
Good is yet confused
With the desired,
Where to be alone with you is enough.

[432]


David R. Dow is professor of law at the University of Houston Law Center, where he teaches and writes in the areas of constitutional law and theory, death penalty law, and contracts. He has represented more than forty death row inmates in state and federal habeas corpus appeals, and is the founder and director of the Texas Innocence Network. His most recent book is Executed on a Technicality: Lethal Injustice on America's Death Row (Beacon Press, 2005).
"The Night Before the Morning" was previously published in The Advocate, "Mourning in Carolina" previously appeared in the Houston Poetry Fest 2000: Anthology (Southwest Literary Arts Council, 2000), and "Euclidean Mergings" appeared in Gulf Coast.