Fiduciary Duties

Words, tumbling, text-torn, fly up again,
Like truant toddlers scuffling through
The scattered leaf-piles of my aching brain.

Eve’s rosy fingers on the glass beckon ‘Up and out!’
But, still, I dissect digressive
Legal verbiage most finely gilt with doubt.

Within this pedant’s cage I’m bound 
With revisions of provisions,
With lists of legislation,
With precedential peroration,
All in endless adoration
Of rules that won’t be found.