Different Slants

Seeing the World from a New Angle

The Marlboro Cop…by Robert M Katzman

Filed under: Cops,gritty Chicago stories,Philosophy,Poetry & Prose,Social Policy and Justice — Bob at 10:29 pm on Friday, February 25, 2011

 

© 2/2011  by Robert M. Katzman

 

Hot

Hot

Day

 

Poor Man

Living

in

a

Rich Man’s

Town

 

Cars

Stretched out

Like

a

Highway to Hell

 

Gotta

Get

Home

 

I whip around the Mob

an’

Sail around the Shoulder

Running

for that

last

Green Light

 

Between

Me

a

Couch

n’

Cool, cool air

 

But

Shit!

 

There’s

Those

Damn

Red and Blue

Lights

Crawlin’

Right

Up

My

Ass

 

I see the Cop get out

 

In

My

Cracked

Rearview

Mirror

 

No

Cop Hat

Tight

Blue Cop Shirt

Too small

 

He lifts

Weights

Big Time

and

wants

Everyone

 to

Know

It

 

Open neck collar

Sweat

Pouring  

Down

His

Sun- burnt

 Face

 

Shirt drenched

Mirror Shades

Tattoo

on

his

Muscled

Forearm

 

He ain’t happy

 

I’m bein’ pulled over

by

The Marlboro Cop

 

Shaggy

Red

Moustache

 

Big Frown

 

“Kill your Motor!”

He growls

 

“License, Registration, Now!”

He barks

 

“What’re ya think yer doin’ man?”

He ain’t askin’

 

Ashamed

Caught

Guilty

 

I say:

“I did it”

“I’m so tired”

“I’m sorry”

 

The Marlboro Cop

Stops the Interrogation

Stares

at

Me

 

I’m

Driving

Rust on Wheels

Held

Together

By

Prayers

 On a

Friday Night

 

Surrounded

by

Power

in

Jaguars

Mercedes

Volvos

 

AC broken

Windows open

Breathin’ their Exhaust

 

“You did it?”

He asks, softer

 

“Yeah, ya got me, Officer”

 

Another stare from The Marlboro Cop

 

“Fifteen years”

He snaps

 

“Fifteen years

an’

you’re the

First

Son of a Bitch

To say: 

“I did it”

 

“God damn it!”

 

He shakes his head

Hot Sweat

Flying  

on

My

Confessional

Face

 

Cop

Shoves

his

Ticket Book

In

his

Back Pocket

 

“A  Fucking Honest Man!”

 

He snarls

in

Disbelief

 

He

Wipes  

His

Muscled

Tattooed

Forearm

Across

His

Damp Forehead

Wet hair

Stickin’

To

his

skin

 

“No Ticket for the Honest Man”

The Marlboro Cop

Says to me

 

“Beat it”

 

I

Stare

Stunned

 into

my

Dirty

Broken

Mirror

 

Confused

as

the

Tough

Cop

Walks Away

 

The

Cracked

Glass

Slicing him

into

Both

Good and Evil

 

Mercy

from

the

Merciless?

 

I

Was

Waiting

For

The

Silver Bullet

But

 

Well, Hell

Man

 

I

Didn’t

Want

to

Press my Luck

 

(A true story: July 2003, Highland Park, Illinois)

About the writer and his other life in Skokie, Illinois:

My Store twitter: @MagazineMuseum

My Stories Twitter: @ChicagoKatzman

Bob Katzman’s Magazine Museum: 100,000 periodicals back to 1576!
Wall of Rock: 50 years of cool Rock periodicals on display & for sale
4906 Oakton St. (8000 north and 4900 west) Skokie, Ill 60077
(847)677-9444 Mon-Fri: 10 am to 5 pm / Weekends: 10 am to 2 pm

Katzman’s Publishing Company site: www.FightingWordsPubco.com
Katzman’s online non-fiction stories: www.DifferentSlants.com

Poetry? For me, writing poetry is not an option.
It’s a response to emotion. Like cigarette smoke,
it’s fast-flowing, shapeless and with little time to capture it.
Writing poetry in an imperative. I say what I feel compelled to say.

I sell my five published books via mail order and accept major credit cards.
I don’t use PayPal. I just talk to people on the phone.
Fast, reliable service. Read my stories and see what you think.
I’m also available for hire to read my true Chicago stories to organizations
and answer all questions. I autograph my books when I sell them.

I am currently seeking an agent to do more readings.
Feel free to call me at the number above.

About the writer and his other life in Skokie, Illinois:

Bob Katzman’s Magazine Museum: 100,000 periodicals back to 1576!
Wall of Rock: 50 years of cool Rock periodicals on display & for sale
4906 Oakton St. (8000 north and 4900 west) Skokie, Ill 60077
(847)677-9444 Mon-Fri: 10 am to 5 pm / Weekends: 10 am to 2 pm

Katzman’s Publishing Company site: www.FightingWordsPubco.com
Katzman’s online non-fiction stories: www.DifferentSlants.com

Poetry? For me, writing poetry is not an option.
It’s a response to emotion. Like cigarette smoke,
it’s fast-flowing, shapeless and with little time to capture it.
Writing poetry in an imperative. I say what I feel compelled to say.

I sell my five published books via mail order and accept major credit cards.
I don’t use PayPal. I just talk to people on the phone.
Fast, reliable service. Read my stories and see what you think.
I’m also available for hire to read my true Chicago stories to organizations
and answer all questions. I autograph my books when I sell them.

I am currently seeking an agent to do more readings.
Feel free to call me at the number above.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

6 Comments »

Comment by Don Larson

February 26, 2011 @ 12:51 pm

Thank you, Bob.

It’s not easy to get out of Chicago ticket.

Don

Comment by Ami

February 26, 2011 @ 4:04 pm

I can feel the heat, humid sweaty air, reading those lines, even though it’s fuckin freezin outside. That’s the value of good poetry. Atmosphere.

But since we’re dealin with daily life here, next time I will do the same, I’ll admit anything the cop says. Maybe he’ll let me go.

Thanks, Bob.

Comment by anna kong

February 26, 2011 @ 8:53 pm

Nothing beats honesty. One of my fellow teachers would often say to the kids, “the truth will set you free.”

The cops have a soft spot for teachers. I’ve been lucky a few times when I got stopped. Luckily, I don’t get pulled over too often. Although I prefer a cop over those cameras – don’t even get a chance to talk yourself out of a ticket.

I heard once that if a person wants to be a liar he better have a good memory to keep his story straight. Less work if you tell the truth. I agree.

Comment by Bob

February 27, 2011 @ 12:26 pm

Anna, the truth can also get you locked up.

Seriously,in my lifetime association with cops as neighbors, protectors, friends, brutal assailants and at least once, life savers, what I’ve learned is:Don’t question their authority. They want distance and respect. They want appreciation, but rarely get it.

Many police feel they put their life on the line on a daily basis protecting a mostly ungrateful citizenry whom they know dismisses many of them as lazy and corrupt.

I am not one of those people.

There’s often a simmering antagonism just below their civility during an encounter with a rulebreaking person. Their unspoken attitude is generally,

“Hey, please don’t make this incredibly boring job of writing you a traffic ticket any more annoying than it already is.”

The cops who cut you a break are the ones who are lied to so endlessly, they have trouble processing a person who voluntarily admits guilt.

Doesn’t make them wonderful or you an angel. Its just unexpected and ultimately…appreciated.

There’s a lot I don’t know. But I do know this. Be straight with a cop over minor infractions and the whole process speeds up. Being polite, as my father taught me, is the social lubricant that makes life possible.

I find that to be true every day, everywhere.

I’m a liberal democrat, but for me, the cops are a separate issue. Its always been that way.

Comment by J Steve Adler

February 28, 2011 @ 9:08 pm

I told you several times that you have ‘talent’.

Not only for writing, but also for dealing with difficult situations.
Keep up the good works and stay well.
Steve

Comment by Kimberly Powitz

March 21, 2011 @ 7:54 am

Wonderful Poem. Thanks for letting me have the chance to read it.

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