living large

we'd have the occasional

brush with the law

when out

driving the streets late

at night

back in the day.

the day being the 1970s.

beer in hand, the radio

blasting the Door's

Light My Fire

that we knew all the words to.

four guys, not a single girl

around.

and the cops would spot

us and turn on their

party lights,

make the driver get out

and explain what we were

doing out and about

at this hour.

one a.m.

we'd hide the weed, stuff

the beer cans

under the seat, and brush

our long hair out of our eyes.

going for food, we'd all say

with grins on our

stoned faces.

go home, the cop would say

in a fatherly way.

get your jack in the box

food, then head home.

we'd give him a beer or

two for him and his partner

then off we'd go

to the drive thru for some

greasy fries and tacos,

a jack burger,

onion rings and large cokes.

the cops waving as they

drove away.