Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Path Humble Jun 2018
left my phone unlocked
on the taxi’s back seat,
won't be the last time

called it a few times
finally, the driver picked up

he had a fare immediately after mine,
and was now headed way downtown,
and would call later
when fate returned him nearer my office

and so it came to pass,
very shortly thereafter,

we met on the street,
he rolled down  the window
and with the greatest smile of pleasure,
as if he had won the lottery
beaming,
handed me my phone

I had two $20's to cover any expense he might have incurred,
neatly folded in my hand  
and offered it right up, right away;
but the driver repeatedly pushed my hand away
as I insisted,
saying:

"No sir, no no, not necessary!

Allah sent me a fare
that took me soon back close to you, so,
  no loss of time did I suffer,
so your offer is kindly unnecessary!"


to which I replied,

"exactly!
Allah sent you to me
so I could reward you!"


and with an equally, beaming smile I continued,

"our ride and meeting today,
together was pre-ordained it was


Inshallah!" ^

something he could not dispute...
or my knowledge thereof and it’s
proper pronouncement,
nor
his amazement,
to disguise!

  we parted ways
   each believing,
   each receiving,
a heavenly check plus,
each, credited with a mitzvah^^
on our
respective trip logs,
our humanly divine balance sheets,
kept by the
single
supreme taxi dispatcher
Arabic for ^"God/Allah willing" or "if God/Allah wills," frequently spoken by a Muslim


^^a meritorious or charitable act in the Jewish tradition

FYI,
NYC taxi cab drivers are suffering economically by the explosion of ride hailing app cars, many unable to pay their bills, earn a living, have committed suicide over the past few months
https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/sixth-new-york-city-cab-driver-dies-suicide-after-struggling-n883886

true story, poetry is there for the taking
My tailpipe spewing acid rain
I am M-i . . . on my way
To s-s-i-s-s and be ******
What I say . . . i-p-p-i
Memphis coming home

Crossing state line is heaven's door
I'm released now hit the floor
Old lead foot is on his way
You'd better believe it
I'm Memphis coming home

Coffee and whiskey my mainstay
Haul'n fast and reliably
No matter what my dispatcher say
Memphis coming home

Tupelo . . . past it's gates
New Albany approaching , now it's gone
Holly springs was a pleasure passing
I'm Memphis coming home

Cotton dust
Taste bud stuff
You can call them hills
Now if you must

Pine or oak , whatever's your choice
Tunica technically kicked your dust
Ole snake eyes soiled your luck
Broke , Memphis coming home

78 or 55
No matter I feel alive
Inside I'm outside myself
As I glide between the white lines . . .
I'm Memphis coming home
Alex Fountain Feb 2014
Nobody teaches you how to react when you are woken up by the people you live with as they are screaming obscenities at each other.
Nobody teaches you how to defend your mom against the one she chose to marry and his demeaning words, full of hatred and anger.
Nobody teaches you how to tell the phone operator what is happening while also trying to stop the tears that continue to pour from your already burning eyes.
Nobody teaches you how to pry a 45 year old from a 14 year old or how to stay safe until the police arrive at your house.
Nobody teaches you how to convince your brother to come back inside after running away into the cold, December winds in order to protect himself.
Nobody teaches you how to quickly and efficiently pack your belongings into three small bags when your home life escalates from bad to worse to hell-on-earth.
Nobody teaches you how to tell your friends that you will not be coming back to school.
And nobody teaches you how to survive when you are no longer welcome to live at the place you once called home.

Nobody taught me how to react when I was woken up by the people I lived with as they were screaming obscenities at each other.
I was not aware that standing outside my bedroom door – with every limb of my body cemented into place and stricken with fear, unable to move or even breathe, let alone defuse the situation – was worthy of being verbally attacked.
I did not know what to do when actions were required.

Nobody taught me how to defend my mom against the one she chose to marry and his demeaning words, full of hatred and anger.
I could not think of the right words to say to put an end to
the hysteria in which my mom was continuously put down and verbally spat upon.
I could not think of the right steps to take to ensure she would no longer fall victim to words that did not accurately describe her worth.
I did not know how to defend my own mother.

Nobody taught me how to tell the phone operator what was happening while also trying to stop the tears that continued to pour from my already burning eyes.
I did not know how to breathe properly - in and out, in and out - or how to put my words into coherent sentences or how to listen to what I was being told from the operator and my mom and the cacophony of other voices that were piercing my ears with every uttered sound or how to recall my name, age, and address.
I did not know how to make a simple phone call.

Nobody taught me how to pry a 45 year old from a 14 year old or how to stay safe until the police arrived at my house.
I never before had to witness the strength that adrenaline causes a scrawny, teenage boy to possess.
I never before had to witness the deranged sight of a pair of eyes when they are locked onto your only brother, waiting and wanting to hurt him in more ways than one.
I never before had to witness and endure the way in which seconds seem to last hours when waiting for the police to bring safety and an end to the nightmare that had become real life.
I did not know how to escape the paralyzing effect of pure, unfathomable fear.

Nobody taught me how to convince my brother to come back inside after running away into the cold, December winds in order to protect himself.
I did not realize that sometimes letting my younger brother run away from home is the best thing to do.
I did not realize that sometimes the police agree that you should not chase after kids who run away.
I did not realize that sometimes he would rather be cold than bruised.
I did not know how fast a person could run when he is scared.

Nobody taught me how to quickly and efficiently pack my belongings into three small bags when my home life escalated from bad to worse to hell-on-earth.
I could not differentiate between what items were wants and what items were needs, what items I needed to live and what items I needed to survive.
I could not differentiate between the voice of the police telling me to “hurry up” and the voice in my head telling me “you aren't going fast enough.”
I did not know how to move out.

Nobody taught me how to tell my friends that I will not be coming back to school.
I cannot absorb the questions that I am relentlessly asked: Yes, I am okay; No, I don't know what's going to happen; Maybe I will be able finish out the week.
I cannot absorb the look of disbelief and confusion in the eyes of my closest friends and even those who I can only call acquaintances.
I do not know how to leave my friends.

Nobody is teaching me how to survive since I am no longer welcome to live at the place I once called home.
I was not aware how quickly feelings can, and do, change from acceptance to rejection.
I could not think of what was going through my mom's head as she and her children were mercilessly attacked with both sentences and strength.
I did not know how to talk to the 9-1-1 dispatcher when my words were so desperately needed.
I never before had to witness such deep animosity within one household.
I did not realize that sometimes words hurt just as much as sticks and stones.
I could not differentiate between the sounds of stomping feet and the sounds of police banging on the door.
I cannot absorb the fact that I am not allowed to go back to the place I lived for four years.
*I do not know what to do.
By a dank , stinky waterway
Blowing off all my care
Swarms of tiny black insects
Biting me everywhere
Around the bend so listless
Hovers a barge's spotlight

Now I was feeling cold as a stone
So I knew that it was time for me to go
I roared down the highway
To that trucks diesel smell
Seeking shelter in the middle of the night
Somewhere , where they treat you well
A red light dangles from a window
Lady Nightly is leaning against the door
She says, "Won't you come on in and I'll
be your ***** ."

Oh , welcome to the Hotel , Alabama
Such a secluded place , "such a secluded place"
Such a must see place
Book a room at the Hotel , Alabama
Put away your fears , "put away your fears"
She'll be waiting there

She'll twist your time so swiftly
Make you taste all of her amends
She knows all the right moves
If not she'll call in her friends
The moon ago was arising
She covers all of your bets
Pure pale skin in the moonlight
A taste I can't forget

I call up the dispatcher
"I won't be in on time"
Lamenting he said ,"Where are you this time?"
But his voice just got more distant
As I turned away
Forgot all about him as I dove back in bed
(Then she turned over to say)

"Welcome back to the Hotel , Alabama
Such a lovey place, "such a lovely place"
Always has a place
"Welcome to the Hotel , Alabama"
What a pleasant rise , "what a pleasant rise"
No need for disguise

My senses now reeling
Gin and tonic would have to suffice
She said , "Once , twice , now let's make it thrice"
There in the muggy bedroom
We were joined like a beast
We slapped our steely bodies
But couldn't satisfy it in the least

The rising sun glared at me in the face
She was standing by the door
"Y'all have to stop by on your way back
And I'll give you more"
"Oooh , aah ouch !" said I to the lady of my night , "It's more than I perceived .
You got a facebook page , one that I could like ?"
(And all she said was),"It's time for you to leave"

So welcome back to the Hotel , Alabama
Such a distant place , "such a distant place"
Such a must see place
Welcome back to the Hotel , Alabama
What a pleasant rise , "no need for disguise"
You can always book a room at the Hotel , Alabama
Such a lovely place , "such a lonely place"
Such a distant place . . . . . .
A nickname I had when I drove trucks was Alabama .
Alex Caldwell Oct 2011
Standing guard,
At the gates of hell.
Protecting the world,
From the evils of the past.
Ever vigilant,
Never faltering.
Unnamed protector,
Dispatcher of horrors.
Anna Sep 2015
1.You are the mistress. ****** had been there long before you and courses through his veins. She has his heart.

2. Kiss his scars and show his yours. He spends so much time intoxicating his faults that it is easy for him to think he is the only one that is flawed.

3.Don’t be offended when he offers to help you shoot up. He wants to share a part of himself with you. It will always be a part of him.

4.When borrowing his coat, check the pockets for spare needles.

5.****** will always be the most intimate experience for him. *** will become basically non existent.

6.You will need to buy him new belts often.

7.Get the number of his dealer. They usually have an adrenaline shot handy for when he overdoses. Also, he will usually know the location of your boyfriend that has been missing for three days.

8.When calling 911, speak clearly. It is hard to tell the dispatcher that he is not breathing when you’re having trouble doing that yourself.

9.They won’t let you ride in the ambulance with him.

10.Time freezes in the hospital waiting room.

11.Don’t take it personally when he yells at you for not letting him die.

12.Try not to cry when he tells the nurses to escort you out.

13.His parents know you tried your best. They did too.

14.He will beg for you to come back. And you have every right to walk away. You did not fail him, you are just deciding not to let him destroy you.

15.You will still love him. You will wake to the thought of him and fall asleep whispering his name. Every time your phone goes off, you will hope that it’s him even though you blocked his number months ago. You will still feel his hold on you. And every time you’re alone, crying in your room you will remember that you chose not to be with him.
But that’s okay. You chose yourself.
Nellie 55 Jul 2021
"Delta 16, will you take out a 47? Front desk."
Said the dispatcher.
"10-4"
I Said
But everything seemed so off. I can't hear anyone once I get to the front desk. It's colder than normal. I started hearing my radio break out.
"Dispatch, radio check"
It's still statically
"Dispatch, radio check"
I repeated
in a creepy deep female voice
"Radio check good"
I had assumed that was just delta 12 but the radio was also being just weird. As I proceeded to the front desk I could swear I heard whispers behind the slots themes.
"They're here, get out!"
But then again I had been listening to horror stories and had been watching horror movies.
"Eagle dispatch, 47 front desk"
I had said
But there was no one at the front desk so I waited
"Clear from eagle on your 47 front desk"
Oh great, I'm clear But not clear. Do to no one here.
I heard a voice though...
"back in here hold on one second. I dropped the receipts."
Front desk clerk said
She seemed off to me...
"Delta 16, eta on your 47?"
Said dispatcher
"I'm at the front desk still waiting on the clerk, sorry dispatcher I had thought she was ready"
I start to hear whispers getting louder
"They're here! They're with us! Get out while you have a chance!"
Said the voices
Okay, I think I'm skitz, but I can't help that it dramatically got louder
BANG!!!
"Delta 16, are you okay!? What's going on there!!!!"
Eagle dispatch says
"Delta 16 down, code 4 deltas, I REPEAT CODE 4 DELTA DOWN, DELTA 16 DOWN"
Eagle says in a panic but yet professional voice.
It got cold, outside looks so dark and gloomy. Like rain will down poor but it's also kind of foggy. Only in Minnesota. I began to walk past the front desk because I thought she'd had gone in the back from some reason. But then a guard approached me.
"Sir, you can't be back here!"
A man had said
"Sir, I work here. What are you doing following me?"
I had said
He looks at my badge and I look at his uniform
We both in confusion look at each other
women screaming
I ran over right away towards where I thought I'd hear it.
"Welcome, to hell!"
Dark deep voice
"Dispatch 10-65, 10-24 behind the front desk door!"
I repeated
But no response
Not even a statically sound
But I keep hearing random voices again
"Nellie! Stay with us!!!"
I began to wonder what's going on
I keep feeling a sharp pain on my chest, anxiety level to the max
"Hey, we've got to get moving. Shooting in thus casino!!!"
Said the man
I get up to catch myself fighting masked men
"Get the ******* me!!!"
I screamed
I got beat and I noticed blood everywhere
But I'm only bleeding from my face
I looked up to see that bodies are everywhere and that man is now laughing while bleeding to death
I go to look outside to see the beautiful outdoors one last time before I fade away. I noticed a very tall man in a suit next to another emo looking man with a huge smile
I began to wonder what's happening I'm very very disturbed
But I start seeing a bunch of dark figures crawling from behind them. Then my chest really began to hurt but then my whole body felt a rush of air and a huge shock ran through my body.......
"Clear!!!"
"Hurry up, we're losing him again!!!! Nel, wake up!!!"
I've noticed I'm not okay, as I got a sharp pain towards my side.
I got sharp pain and shocks of waves running through my body!
I scream what's going on!!!!!
I lose sight immediately of the dark shadows and Grey and gloom room and I now see a room full of officers and paramedics and like my whole Delta team
"What the hell happened?"
I struggle to ask
"Nel, you've been shot and stabbed, try and not move or speak"
I knew I should of listen to the whispers. But I can now hear whispers telling me
"He's got you, no escape!"
Cali Oct 2016
It's the middle of the afternoon
and the street heaves
beneath the weight of
so much ordinary existence.

The leaves fall steadily,
matching their pace to
the unceasing rain and
painting striking contrasts
of crimson and umbre
against the grey sky.

The woman next door
is screaming
and the grief and terror
that catches at her throat
is palpable amidst this
ordinary scene.

Solid things suddenly seem surreal
when they are choked in sorrow,
and I feel like a statue
dialing 911 with marble fingers
as she runs from demons
that will plague her forever.

The dispatcher gives directions,
and step by step,
I try to recreate feelings
like compassion and empathy,
as if that could be enough
in this startlingly raw moment
to calm someone who is
coming apart at the seams.

She won't look at me,
she is not here.
I can feel the grief
in her voice like porcelain,
and I can taste it-
like ice chips.
But I'm not here either,
I'm just holding this emotion
in my hands, numb.

The ambulances come
and take her lover away
beneath a white sheet
and I can hear the police radios
shrieking suicide
as everyone stands
on the sidewalk,
enjoying the show.

And I retreat into
my quiet home,
still holding this
porcelain grief
like a talisman.
I sit down
at the kitchen table
and turn it round and round,
trying to understand
where it fits
in this ordinary
Wednesday afternoon.
started out just like any other  
ended wrapping my arms around my mother
she tiptoed to the foot of the bed
and she knew before she knew that you were dead
still remembering the shrill ring of the phone
and the forever drive all alone
the dispatcher withholding, vague, concise
the road (and my heart) left frozen in ice
didn't know what to expect
but knew enough to suspect
this couldn't end well
one more visit to my hell
Your childhood teddy bear spoke to me that morning- the music box long silenced tinkled its tune unexpectedly....1/19/14
Izze Jun 2020
(trigger warning... mentions of r*pe)


before the law sITs a gatekeeper,

deCider of fates, seer Of truths, and dispatcher of jUstice.

a Lot of people lie, so the gatekeeper guarDs the law, afraid of what

might happen come retriBution day, when an innocent man goEs to

prison.


innocent mAN goes to prison. innocent man. innocent man.


the gatekeeper fears for the man, protects the man. lord forbid an

innocent man goes to jail for something he didn’t do.

“plus, chicks exaggerate **** all the time. . .[theY] could **** [a]

**** and still [call] **** just because [they don’t] want it later on”  


plus, a lot of people lie.


drunk guys always get the benefit of dOubt. drunk womeN do not.

what wEre you wearing? were you flirting? dO you have a boyFriend?

were you drinking?


one in five women are ***** or sexually assaUlted.Seventy percent of

women ages 18-24 are assaulted each year. no more than twenty percent

of ****** assaults are reported.


and yet the gatekeeper sits and protects the law. protects the man.


it could be me! one in five women! it could be me

or her

or her

or you

when will we teach boys not to **** instead of teaching girls how not to be *****?

i don’t want to worry about going to a party or going to a friend’s house and waking up with Him inside of me

i don’t want to worry about going to a festival and putting down my drink for a second, only to pick it back up and feel dizzy after a few sips, go back to my tent and wake up with Him inside of me

i don’t want to confide in friends and family and try to find justice and be accused of lying about something so personal

i don’t want to have the guilt and the shame and the anger follow me for years after, chasing me like some monster from a storybook

i don’t want to have to know that people believe Him over me

i don’t want to see him around town and know what he did and know he could do it again

when will we teach boys not to **** instead of teaching girls how not to be *****?

it could be me. and i don’t want to be *****.
I wrote this after reading John Krakauer's book, "Missoula", which focuses on **** on college campuses and how they're dealt with: rather, how they're largely ignored. If cases are pursued, the victim faces many obstacles and they often do not get justice. I go to college this fall.
Lawrence Hall May 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                   Can Internet Service Providers be Saved?

                      Hey, that’s no way to say goodbye.

                                     -Leonard Cohen

Multiple Voices from an ISP:

Our order support team reported back…
you had 2 work orders. Your work order with us
has been cancelled and the email you forwarded
to me is the installation group you will need
to contact about scheduling. Sorry…We have received
this work order that was already scheduled for 5/8
morning. There are no notes from any dispatcher
speaking to you and changing the appointment
date/time. Below are the notes on the account
and no appointment changes have been made.
Called to t/s modem; modem is offline…
t/s modem is offline…Upgrade for
the Unlimited Bronze 12…set expectations…
I do not know who this sales group is. They
do state you are scheduled for 5/4 but the work
order they sent to the 3rd party installer
shows your [sic] scheduled for 5/8. We do not
have techs in your area tomorrow…I have sent
your account to the order support team…Your appointment
scheduled [sic] has been updated…Changes have been made
to your ViaSat account.

API INSERT (Note) 04/30/2021 11:01:56 AM CDT BEP scheduling work order during creation. API UPDATE (Schedule Date) 04/30/2021 11:01:56 CDT Unscheduled Unassigned API INSERT (Note) 04/30/2021 11:01:53 AM CDT

Installation notes…Our records indicate…
We need to confirm your appointment…Your appointment
schedule has been updated…as your preferred date
could not be accommodated. We sincerely apologize…
We have been trying to reach you with the number you provided…
We have received your work order and would like to confirm…
Sorry, we were unable to deliver your message
to the following address…Your Viasat Internet
payment failed…Payment has not been received…
If you do not make a full payment soon…
relaying denied…To avoid interruption
of your Viasat service…You may also call us…
agent assist fees may apply…

Thanks for being a Viasat internet customer!
The sub-contractors who do the installation and repair are professional; the problem is with the office-gnomes who appear not to listen even to each other.
CasiDia Feb 2023
My village is a bit crooked, of course
of course
it shows
on the streets
it was known
evening police
traded in grace for blow
sources say they
wanted to drive it home
catching sirens
dating gang bangers
on video drones

My village is corrupted, of course
of course
it shows
puppets wave
programs
smiling daggers
while our weakest
become sadder
kick the bucket
and say goodbye
to the dispatcher

I suppose
some people
lead by a nose
and someone else
must shake
his ****** fists
and cry;

"All these beautiful things I've seen make me feel so alive"
Keith W Fletcher Oct 2023
...Something so familiar
seemed to be hanging
just outside my periphery...
like an annoying honey bee
Suddenly I popped up
from a languid moment
of heat driven exhaustion....
knowing something
had to be done.
So I grabbed my official hat
out my office door I...hobbled along  
due...to... my left leg being asleep
"wake up you fool"
I muttered as I angled
past the front desk
where
that new deputy stood playing on some little box
"Is that an IPOD?"
No sir! what's an Ipod ?
never mind
just keep people off that bridge
till I return and tell you different! Is that clear?
Yes sir Danial...uhhh chief ...!
Good now get going.

I got to go talk to the D. A.
then out I went to the most oppressive sept heat seen in decades

"NO! No way! That's not possible!"
You think so...? the chief asked
well just look out there in the streets.
Where are the kids-
home studying for school when it's still 2 days away?
Raymond Frazer D.A. for Upton county + 2 more back in the hill country.
"I am...de...
doodlytermined
so you coming?
"Yeah chief...but just to prove you...
can't and won't
overstep your authority."
And who would determine that? Judge.... Willoughby?well let's go see what he has to say then.
If you can get him
to approve your overreach
I won't say another word!

Hello Judge my dispatcher call you?
"Yes. She did and ,I must say...lunch?sure ,but it sounds like a walk down memory land lane
We might as well! gonna get some good bbq and cold beer out on the hiway.
10 minutes.
We will pick you up
after you get done with Betty Lou

oh and write this on a sheet of of cardboard and post it. .*** the judge chuckled
be there to pick you up in a jif.

Who's Betty Lou? And where we going now?
Find that Deputy of mine give him a special assignment.

County ordinance or 2
So ....
Technically
we were trespassers
By all truth of right, wrong or law...but
No harm meant by the rules
we bent
MAYBE...
Telling too many seemed the major flaw


That overbearing, solar flaring, heat streak
summer of desperation turned inspiration
When seeing people instead of watching people
Gave me different ways of creating separation

From what I see and what I'm shown
What I'm told and what it is
I actually hear
What I say and what I truly believe
And how somethings really are...just as they appear

Amazingly enough this cyber shift implosion
Crashed thru the outer me
careening around within my fragile core
While crouching down in a clump of bushes
Staring into caramel brown eyes of a girl...who was
Just as naked as me

It blew through town back then  like a hot dry wind on a July day
When people were melting like long stick candles   bowing
like an emissary to a King
In any window where the aftenoon sun shines bright
As it is
magnified...like the stupid cruel rumor

A rumor that a farmer broke a water main while plowing

Literally what else would it take to break
That fragil overbearingly irriatatingly ******* monotony
that held the midwest
American small towns dying summer that
year
a near-death grip
Except.... maybe...if
the rumor had
turned out to be phony

The trail of misfit cars, pickups, motorcycles rolling North
must have looked like the jailbreak/ carnival parade it was...that
seemed to gather stragglers like a magnet gathers iron filings
Soon on saddle bank road 120+ kids
Naked and as innocent in the fact...
That one might think that today was the day
they were born and in some ways...
they were! Fully fledged
in exodus
from the womb
of pure monotonous ladened
claustrophobic morality... have way to languished hedonistic daydreams

Static groups of slow-melting apparitions
Unaware uninspired unintended refugees
Of homes...
of family...
and abject boredom
of that sad summer of high petrol- low crude performance and
Summer jobs never blooming and now... add a drought.

As the final Saturday wilted on the absentee mind
Before the Monday rises to drag them back in...
...to the ritualized killing of all who found
The looming tedium  of lessons and tests
unbearably cruel to have school begin its pull
Without ever even having a glimpse
Of the dying ghost
of a summer break that never was.

Until...that steady drone
rose from a distance
Those 90cc pistons
spitting hope as its frantic echo
Seemed
to somehow announce
from 3 miles away
"help he's killing me!"

Razer was making that hybrid bike scream
then...right down main he came shouting thunderously
But to no avail...
....as every word
unheard...
undecipherable

"...daughter shake
bigganake
common shop..." was the word that ppl heard....

...then it died
PISTON ROD took off over the barbershop
Headed for the moon

Razer stood over the smoking carcus
Spit on it ...kicked it... then saluted it ...
Before saying hey common nowz its flowing and growing
Quicker than quick ...
and that was how summer came to a glorious end.

with a ten acres puddle
Water spraying 30 ft high and by gawd we took to it like
butter to hot biscuits.
until that is
the cops arrived!

And we all run to hide.
.. so here's where
I started this tale

Shhh.. I said
to this *******
beside me
Flesh-colored and glistening ...
We better stay put
you know...
... till it calms down
Hey!  I don't believe I've ever seen you around...the town before...
do you live here... in Braeden  I mean?

We just moved here
she said.
Hi, I'm Joy-Ann Hope
And she surely was at that!
  forever  ...well
Until I changed her last name and she became Joy-Ann PAYNE.
HEY IM NOT TO BLAME
9 MONTHS  later we
met a little girl
named Summer Dawn Payne!

We know all that Daniel...but you cannot expect us...the DA and Chief judge ..not to mention members of the school board and...
Shut that up Judge Willoughby...
and be Mickey Willoughby and Ray Ray ...not D.A.Frazier for a second so you can remember.
Think back 38 yrs and how that line of dried out ,dusty, forlorn kids suddenly came alive that day ...the horns honking, bicycle tires spinning and Ol Joey P ...rest his soul on that horse of his as it clattered along the concrete and clopped by the lead car by galloping along the grass shoulder.
Beat us all to the puddle and I will never forget what we saw when we got close
Him and the mare neck deep ...ha haha ha Yes. Joey P and Nantucket Grey were good people. Rest in peace old friends.

Okay ...the heck with it say the judge mickey to the sad moment of revered silence ...I'm about ready to retire and as I recall that day now I realize 1 thing
Crystal effen clear now
I saw Mary Hortons ...uhh Who that day..and that I somehow got old.
I'm sold Chief ...Sorry, Daniel what do we do?
Well Ray Ray County DA what do you not have to say now?

Just Question guys...shall we go get a tractor or sledge hammers?

Oh come on guys this is the 21 century and I am chief of police with ... well army surplus courtesy
of the fed gov and everything we said we would fix when we got "growed up"
Maybe today we help the next gen or two know what freedom really feels like.
Ray .. call the sheriff " little Bobbie Jones " and tell him
- and them-
to stay the f away.
Judges order.  
Hope wins again.
wn

— The End —