early morning wake-up call
cold winter morning.
three a.m., and all is not fucking well
should not be here
flashing lights. warning red.
cool blue. splashing across asphalt.
confused as an infant
“you been drinking?” asks the pig
“no,” I reply stepping from
my cage on wheels.
The pig’s distrustful,
I see, as he rummages
Through the vehicle
In search of something, any thing, really.
He steps away
With a sardonic grin.
He’s found what he was looking for
- gut tightens, teeth grind, fists clinch-
I know what he’s got.
A marijuana pipe and me by the balls.
Want to run.
But the pig says
He’ll shoot me in the leg.
So I stand there,
A deer in his headlights.
Should not be here
Panic runs down my arms
In beads of sweat.
Sweating in 32-degrees of night?!?!
Jesus! I should NOT be here.
The pig hasn’t made a move
For his hand-cuffs
-little relief-
I’m here at three a.m.
And I should be here
So I’ll never be here again.
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I like your resolution to this one; learn from your mistakes.
Love this one man It strikes a nerve from my own past. Verry well done
I remember these times, too. It was a bad deal, a search of your vehicle that could not happen today. I guess you learned from it….glad that you can write about it now. Love, Dad