Ben Stone's Final Scene In Law And Order Poem by John J Doyle

So be it;
our sacrifice rubs its fingers up and
down Adam Schiff's shoulders,
a hunk of New York's finest porcelain -
like the priest leaves his Gods,
like the washer-women knead cloth through the clutch of adamant stone,
brittle, not short-changed on doubt.
Three blocks away
O'Flaherty's Bar and Pool Emporium
flashes Edison's electric blue, those midnight ladies whose
spinal cords arch in shapes of 80s hairspray rock,
5 years out of date;
He's Moriarty once more,
a wayward son's strung-up braces, an erstwhile villain
strung-up by half-faced smile, half-fade lights,
not porcelain made;
no, not even that strong