How to Be a Lawyer My father taught me how to play the beer bottle. It was Schlitz, and I was three or four. "You tuck your lower lip under, then blow air over the top of the bottle." I produced a tone, and we laughed. He paused. "You can make a different sound if there's less in the bottle," he said, motioning for me to take a sip. I did, then blew another note. We laughed again. "Do you want to learn something else? Here's how to be a lawyer. Raise one eyebrow." I did so. "Good. Now hold it for a few seconds, turn toward the jury, and say 'I see.'" Copyright © 2013 by Jordan Davis. Used with permission of the author. |
About This Poem "The most important things sometimes happen in the lightest moments. And if nothing else important happens, the lightness can strengthen bonds between the people present. So also, I hope, for the writer and the reader." --Jordan Davis |
Most Recent Book by Davis
(Faux Press, 2002)
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