The Court was ransacked—no one knew—
But legal briefs were strewn around,
Some cases, pending a review,
Lay scattered covering the ground.
File boxes had been overturned,
The files, loose in disarray—
Reason nor rhyme could be discerned,
The mess spread this and that a way.
The local cops, the county sheriff,
The state police, even the feds,
Were called: imagination’s tariff
Proved too much and they scratched their heads.
The news reporters made their noise—
“How could this happen?" Questions wily
Were asked unanswered, till with poise
Strode in a beat cop named O’Reilly.
“Let’s check the Court’s surveillance tape,”
And, huddled round the monitors
Conclusion they could not escape:
The vandals had been senators!
“I think this fellow may know things”—
He singled out Neil Gorsuch by
A wagging finger: “Ding-a-lings,
Here is your corpus delecti.”
A gasp was heard around the room;
Neil Gorsuch yet the sly white fox
Got busy grabbing up the broom,
“There’s been no crime. Who picked the locks?
“Why, don’t be silly, gentlemen,
Officers, members of the press—
No need for the bright halogen
Of scrutiny: I’ll clean the mess.”
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