you stood against your old battered car
it’s summer in Northern CA
you’re dressed in all black
lipstick perfectly applied
and black hat appropriately tied
lost in a thick conspiracy
did you know it was me
you had your suitcase
gloves on and pen ready
a tape recorder for evidence
each detail is prevalent
you wrote down the license plate
of my rental car
to provide to your lawyer
but never gave his name
i feared you may punch me
square in the face
and wished you would have
for your sake
a trip to the psych ward
was what i wanted for you
just one 5150
my last hope for clarity