Cop Pulls guy Over


“My ID says Rob.
Some numbers, letters displayed,
And a photo with a pure face.”

Still, he stalled the verification stage.

‘Blackout-me’ gives rise to unexpected deja vu.
Somewhere my past goes to be forgotten,
And trauma cannot make the decision to find it.
Or history must not be granting permission.
Tinted windows and loud rap music
Same story everytime, but there’s been something missing.
Oh yea, now I remember being overshadowed by the smell of strong…

“Were you doing drugs?” In a disappointed  cop voice.
“Oh yes, now he’s concerned,
Take the flashlight to both these corneas. Yes, by all means.” was the driver’s retort.

“What’s wrong with you?” the cop asks as he moves to cover his walkie talkie’s loud traffic.

“Every winter, jamming’ to Christmas songs,
Lost memories find their way back at this moment.
Car tint doubles up, from the smoke, Yea- doing too much. This, I already know.
Everything’s beautiful outside. Chrome sprewells
And fresh pearlescent paint job on the ride.
And that’s when Mr. Sober pulls up.
To steal the shine. Then finally, he gives in
And explains to the world
Why he do the things, he keeps doing again and again.
The same answer,
-Tinted windows and loud rap music-It’s you everytime!”

‘Righteous-me’ offer a smile.
‘Anxious-me’ pace every inch of my understanding and think
Why the *beep* can he understand this recycling *beep* in my head?
Why did you even pull this guy over?

“Tented windows and loud rap music.” The driver answered.

“Shit. How did you read my mind?
What the hell’s going on? How did you-
Who am I? Why do I only certain bits of me,
But nothing more of my deep past right now? That must be some strong ganja!” Cop backs up with his hand over his mouth.

“Like Windsor knots and dress shoes with heavy polish,
Only follow after the ones that best suits you.
No more questions, please.
No more trying to control or police things either.
Control can gag the strongest ink down to a trickle,
But can never confine the inertia that writing flings.
Sympathy can get you all in the story- stay outside looking in.
Or worse, suicide, from not feeling needed by the God with the pen.
At best empathy, its what this is all about.
Like a repeated experiment.
Requiring evolution to strengthen its genetics out.” the driver window goes up. The cop attacks the glass and pleads loudly,

“Who’s the writer of these stories and how many times have this been written?”

Window cracks, “until it makes itself known to the author.” Window drops down further, “What history do you remember?”

“Alois Alzheimer, my name apparantly, and talk to myself in 3rd person. True nutcase.
Alcohol and drug abuse took advantage of my mental capacities, I guess.”

“But now you’re closer than ever to finding truth, noticing too much chit-chatter. ”

“-Wha wait, don’t go. The writer, who is it? You said your name was Rob”

“My ID says Rob.
Some numbers, letters displayed,
And a photo with a pure face.”

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