the fish tank

the police fund calls
you.
a serious man
on the other end of the line
with a deep voice.
you begin
to pace the kitchen,
eating rapidly
whatever snacks you can
find.
what does he know?
how could he know
the things you've done.
just a small donation, he
says,
and you'll get a sticker
saying that
you've contributed.
a police sticker for your
bumper.
you look out the window,
but don't see
any squad cars, no cop
walking the beat
swinging his club and whistling
Dixie.
maybe there's a way
out of this.
sure, you say. can I send
five dollars.
or can I just set it out
on the porch,
under the mat?
leave the sticker there.
you hang up and draw the shades.
you crawl over
to the fish tank,
and stare at the fish for
awhile to wait it out.