Mystery and Crime Poetry posted June 22, 2018


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A story-poem about my time in a small town jail

Pastrami

by Brett Matthew West

Once I was arrested in south Georgia
About the time the sun went down
These two cops came and got me
They claimed I was racing through their town

They said, "Come morning, see the judge and go"
So, I made a call on the phone
I told my boss I'd be off
But, the amount of time was unknown

They locked me in a cell with eight more guys
There was one window in the rear
If they had let me bring some
Money in, we'd sent the guard for some beer

The guard was the man in charge that evening
His job was not the best in town
His daughter brought pastrami
That night I turned the hot sandwich down

The next morning I woke up real early
and asked when I'd get my release
For lunch we got pastrami
This time, I wasn't so hard to please

Three days later, thought I'd been forgotten
The sheriff chewing on a straw
Asked, "Where's Mister Daytona
I'd like to explain to him the law"

Let me say the guard's daughter was ugly
She brought that pastrami each day
In nine days she looked better
'Fore too long we planned to run away

The judge took every penny that I had
Said, "Let this teach you not to race"
Like a flash, I left Georgia
In fourth gear, I set a record pace



Share A Story In A Poem contest entry

Recognized


Mister Daytona is a reference to the Daytona 500 stock car race.






American car with no name, by collins24, selected to complement my story-poem.

So, thanks collins24, for the use of your picture. It goes so nicely with my story-poem.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Artwork by collins24 at FanArtReview.com

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© Copyright 2019. Brett Matthew West All rights reserved.
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