When the Clutch drops
The laughter stops
Heads start to turn
Tires start to burn
All this stops when they see the cops

A cop car saw me
then sped.
I am invincible.

I wrote a poem last week
I had to lie about street names
I didn't even check beforehand
To see if there is a "main st." here
Call the cops, I don't care

Midnight has passed and the fan won't stop spinning
My brother is asleep already after a long night of stories and drinking
Cheap beer without glasses, cans and hands locked in each other's grasps
A rattle from a car passes the bench we sit upon with a homeless man
Black and temporarily homeless. A
Year out of prison with experience in law writing documents and saving lives and smoking grass in the seventies
We went to the same beaches growing up as chance would have it, but with thirty years between the ventures.
Midnight has passed and the fan won't stop spinning
My brother is asleep and I can hear his snores in the room and I can hear the tv through the wall
A show about cops and robbers plays like we did when we were kids
Locked underneath my porch in the dark we kissed
Or at least I thought about kissing you and
That's half the same

Deifying the cops for saving people
is a lot like
worshiping a retail worker for checking you out.

forget the drugs. yeah, they’re going
around and yeah, they’re pretty
dangerous, but they don’t take as many
lives. stop searching kids’
lockers and start looking for the deeper
stuff, the things that leave heavier
inflictions. yeah, i
know it’s nearly one
hundred degrees outside, and
there’s girls in here wearing
long sleeved sweaters. they’re
hiding something more
sinister, something
that can’t be measured in
kilos.