Are You Bleeding?

Question: Where is a cop when you need one?
Answer: Not in LA.

9 hour concert level battery.
Full frontal assault.
There’s no escape.
Can’t drive. Had a drink.

Simple math and science.
Increasing decibels equal to
or greater than ethanol consumed.

Not mine, theirs.

By-product permeates walls,
conversation, flesh and bones.
Turn on all appliances, television, stereo.
There’s no escape "Muthafuckah."

What would happen if they knew
they aren’t hip or cool
only consumptive sheep.
A product of marketing.
No individuality just mediocrity.

Thought passes quickly
next round loaded, be-otch.
Show me what you working with.

Working on nine hours, muthafuckah.
Grinding down the last
rational nerve. Yo!

Call local police desk.
Listen to them laugh. They know.
System is a joke.
"Hang in there," they say.
Jerk a knot your noose.

Call communications desk.
Police lingo. You hate lingo.
It separates. Infuriates.

Called FOUR TIMES.
On hold 20 minutes or more.
Times FOUR.

Is this the DMV?

Weekend before the 4th
of July. Oh. Okay, fine.
Thanks. Please come again.
Have a nice day.
Hang in there, baby.

Here’s a joke:
How many hours does it take
to get a cop in LA?
Answer:
Are you bleeding?

Nine hours.
And no, as a matter of fact,
I don’t want to
lean like a cholo.

Thinking of a word. Endure.
Thinking of Iraq.
The image of two vultures talking.
Patience my ass.

If I were a terrorist,
I’d work the weekends.
Holiday weekends. In LA.
No cops. A martyr’s dream.

How many virgins would I get?
I hate Madonna.

The phone rings.11:30.
Hello LAPD.
Does the problem persist?
Raging like Burning Man.
Unit on the way.

I used to believe in the tooth fairy.

Midnight, wishing there was an oasis.
Unit? What unit?
Sound is insanity. White heat.
Serotonin overload. Synapses misfiring.
Madness, pure fucking madness.

Snoring. Exhausted sleep.
Cat snores too. They sleep.
Anger rises, red and hot.
Ahimsa. Do no harm.
But I want to kill. Really I do.

Pick up phone.
Non-emergency dispatch.
Communications desk was it?
12:18. Still on hold.
Pour a glass of wine.

12:37. Wine gone.
Will wonders ever cease?
Some one answers.
Communications Desk was it?

Unit dispatched.
That was 11:30. Clock says 12:40.
Oh, I get it. Say one thing
and do another.

I hate liars. LAPD.

1:00 am. Off.
Question: Where’s that unit?
Answer: Are you bleeding?