Saturday, April 12, 2014

National Poetry Writing Month - April 12, 2014

The weather has been fantastic the last couple of days. Of course, it's going to turn colder again at the beginning of the week, but I'll call it officially spring. And with spring comes the inevitable stupidity of the people.

I am inspired today, by the events of last night. And the fact that one of the people involved looked like this:


Sorry I couldn't find a larger picture. But honestly, she really did look just like this. Bonus if you can name the movie this is from. Extra bonus if you can name the character.

I Thought You Looked Saner

Near the change of shift, the radio calls to us
Someone has come to the station with a problem
That they can't solve themselves.
That they also cause themselves

It's been a long shift; lots of people about
None of whom were overtly evil
But just generally annoying
Except for the sailors. They were all fine

We met the distraught caller in the lot
A brand new SUV parked next to my squad
A larger, older, sweatier man
Lumbered towards us, asking for our help

"We met her downtown" says he
She seemed nice; a few drinks later
And off to the suburbs they all headed
Man. Girlfriend. And "friend"

A $40 friend we later found out
As the truth was revealed to us
He'd rented a car to hide his identity
In case he was pinched by the police

"She's crazy!" he cried. She looked fairly calm to me
Sitting in the passenger seat, staring out of the glass
At the four police now gathered 
And the four paramedics standing nearby

We coaxed her out of the car
Sarah was her name; homeless hooking was her game
She admitted so in a roundabout way
The caller would admit no such thing

Since Sarah was not a criminal in our eyes
She was set free upon society
Or at least the next train back to the city
And we turned to the caller

Larger, older, sweatier man: hear this
The next time you pick up a prostitute 
And the deal goes bad at your house in the next town
Take your problem to their police

And with that they were gone
Back to the big city, and the small house
And we back to the station
To end and begin the night

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