To the Artist's Page     To our home page

To Scott Holstad's next piece

arrest

"put your hands in the air
and slowly come down the
stairs."

oh shit, i thought. the
bitch had called the cops.

they patted me down,
after first asking if i
had any weapons on 
me - i volunteered
my 12" folding Cold Steel
blade, hoping they miss
the 16" flat blade hanging
in the back of my leather
jacket, handle down - 
easy access. glad,
now, that i had dumped
my Glock. almost
through the patdown
and i think it's beaten
them, they find it.

"whoa, look at this
butcher knife! who
were you going to kill
with this, hombre?"

soon i was facing felony
weapons with intent
charges. they suggested
adding assault to the
charges, but since i
didn't knock her door
down, they didn't. they
also tried to get me for
felony drug charges
for my prescription meds
i always carry with me
cause i didn't have my
prescriptions on me.

they bashed my head against
the car as they put me in the
back seat, just like how
tightly they had put my
cuffs on. i wanted a 
cigarette. more importantly,
i wanted to kill the bitch
next door for calling the cops.

To the top of this page