I checked into my cheap Austin motel,
headed out to find something to eat.
Five cop cars
cornered
a man in army fatigues.
He was backing up
into them,
and their raised firearms,
slowly.
It was his choice
what happened next.
He was slow and deliberate.
Careful, even.
A policeman
wearing a bullet-proof vest
aimed a heavy-duty
assault rifle
maybe 25 degrees off angle
from me driving by.
This isn’t Andy of Mayberry anymore.

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