FUCK THE POLICE
911 EVERY DAY
We were young and our happiness dazzled \
* us with its strength. But there was *
* also a terrible betrayal that lay *
* within me like a Merle Haggard song at *
* a French restaurant. [...] *
* *
* I could not tell the girl about the *
* woman of the tollway, of her milk white *
* BMW and her Jordache smile. There had *
* been a fight. I had punched her *
* boyfriend, who fought the mechanical *
* bulls. Everyone told him, "You ride the *
* bull, senor. You do not fight it." But *
* he was lean and tough like a bad *
* rib-eye and he fought the bull. And *
* then he fought me. And when we finished *
* there were no winners, just men doing *
* what men must do. [...] *
* *
* "Stop the car," the girl said. *
* *
* There was a look of terrible sadness in *
* her eyes. She knew about the woman of *
* the tollway. I knew not how. I started *
* to speak, but she raised an arm and *
* spoke with a quiet and peace I will *
* never forget. *
* *
* "I do not ask for whom's the tollway *
* belle," she said, "the tollway belle's *
* for thee." *
* *
* The next morning our youth was a *
* memory, and our happiness was a lie. *
* Life is like a bad margarita with good *
* tequila, I thought as I poured whiskey *
* onto my granola and faced a new day. *
* *
* -- Peter Applebome, International *
* Imitation Hemingway *
* *
\ Competition /
* us with its strength. But there was *
* also a terrible betrayal that lay *
* within me like a Merle Haggard song at *
* a French restaurant. [...] *
* *
* I could not tell the girl about the *
* woman of the tollway, of her milk white *
* BMW and her Jordache smile. There had *
* been a fight. I had punched her *
* boyfriend, who fought the mechanical *
* bulls. Everyone told him, "You ride the *
* bull, senor. You do not fight it." But *
* he was lean and tough like a bad *
* rib-eye and he fought the bull. And *
* then he fought me. And when we finished *
* there were no winners, just men doing *
* what men must do. [...] *
* *
* "Stop the car," the girl said. *
* *
* There was a look of terrible sadness in *
* her eyes. She knew about the woman of *
* the tollway. I knew not how. I started *
* to speak, but she raised an arm and *
* spoke with a quiet and peace I will *
* never forget. *
* *
* "I do not ask for whom's the tollway *
* belle," she said, "the tollway belle's *
* for thee." *
* *
* The next morning our youth was a *
* memory, and our happiness was a lie. *
* Life is like a bad margarita with good *
* tequila, I thought as I poured whiskey *
* onto my granola and faced a new day. *
* *
* -- Peter Applebome, International *
* Imitation Hemingway *
* *
\ Competition /