Raindogblue

Dennis DeWalt

Dennis DeWalt is an ornery drunk.

At One AM, sleepin' on the sidewalk,

he said, 'pound sand,'

when to told him to get up,

so I picked him up, 

put him in the prowler,

and headed for detox.

" Play me some rock-n-roll!"

I hesitated, 

then reached up for my Ipod, 

scrolled to The Who,

and played the first song

through the speakers in the car.

Instead of mother-fuckin' me 

all the way to the drunk tank,

he belowed "Behind Blue Eyes."

Checkin' 'im in, I asked,

Dennis, what you drinkin' ta-nite.

"Old E!"

Old E? Whadda 'bout Camo?

"Camo, I wasn't drinkin' Camo.

If I was, you whudda never found me!"

Technology

The department has launched electronic field reporting.

 I can type a report on the MDT and turn it in without ever setting foot in the office. The report is transmitted from my computer to the sergeants'. I don't have to find a working computer at the end of the night to print out reports. No longer will I have to make extra copies for the detectives and neighborhood response teams. Copies are routed to them electronically.

 Now, I can spend more time in the district and less in the precinct. Sometimes, technology is a good thing.

Abstract Series: Henry

Abstract Series: George

Exposure: Frank

No Joke

No joke, it was the big one:

an employer shooting his employees

in a warehouse with a handgun.

The survivor fled blocks to a house nearby

slicing his hands and legs on razor wire 

to make his escape.

I found him huddled in the kitchen

of a stranger's home shaking in tears.

The boss had been angry

at an employee who owed him money.

He walked up, 

shot the employee at point blank range.

The employee fell to the floor. 

The survivor ran and never looked back.

Officers staged, step up kill teams,

 as snipers scouted the place

only to find everyone alive and playing ball.

It was a prank played with a cap gun

at the price of twenty stitches

on a terrified man's hands and legs.

Done Deal

Last week, all the of the officers 

of South Precinct were divided up,

drafted by seniority and needs,

between East and West Precincts.

The city council has yet to vote,

but it's a done deal.

South is dead.

On June 8th, I be working out of West

with the true weekend off.

The Choice

Another man brought back by Narcan

didn't want to go to the hospital.

I gave him a choice,

You can go with the ambulance

or you can go with me.

"That's some choice."

I'm not going to let you die.

"I don't want to die."

Then, it's an easy choice.

"I'll go by ambulance."

Good. They're nicer than I am.

Warning Light

Exposure: Easy