Peter Lewis Holmes Poet Free verse

Los Angeles 1982

Los Angeles  1982

 my piece  got me out of many a jam
(but I mostly just pointed it)
and the bad guy always said “I didn’t want to do it”,
 or “I’m misunderstood”, or that he wasn’t  bad at all

and when I showed him my badge and my integrity
and called out “hands up!”,(if he was still with us)
he would offer me a bunch of flowers, or a bunch 
of lies, or a bunch of fives
or some story he’d made up (like a poem)

and I’d see him off to the big house
 for half a lifetime or forever, or even worse

and in there, there’s no milkshake, or TV Times or 
walks on a Sunday morning to the deli
and they all laugh at you like you’re crazy or lazy
or need a fix  but they like your tattoos and  scars

 and the stories (lies) that go with them
 and after a while you can hear the sound of 
the storm drain 
washing away the money  from your last job
 along with your  self- respect and self-neglect 
 and they’ve all  got a sister and a mother 
who writes to them  (they say)
and the  family you were never sure about
 but who liked you in a funny kind of way  

disappear from view, maybe moved away, or became 
astronauts, or politicians, or just got tired of writing:
now… do you want all of that?

No?...so come quietly

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John Fleming January 18, 2015 at 5:44 AM Brilliant poem, Peter! Like your other poems I have so far read...Gusty!! :-) john.

Isaiah Zerbst January 15, 2015 at 4:39 PM I like this poem. It reads to me like an exciting short story. Humorous too!