It was the most surprising scene I’ve seen,
since Marcus mixed magic mushrooms
with my KFC coleslaw
and that day Colonel Sanders was a medusa geisha in ricin rain.
‘Ms Jordan, Phileus is known in police circles
as the dog with the golden nose.
He’s found marijuana residue on your walking frame’
Sergeant Cramer croaked.
His offsider Constable Jenson
searched the old lady’s cardigan pockets.
Cramer complained that Ms Jordan’s handbag
had more compartments than the pyramid of Giza
and that taking apart her walking frame
was like trying to dismantle the harbour bridge
with his bare hands.
You didn’t need to be psychic to know these two
were about as popular with the locals
as the inventor of the smart phone
at a Luddites Association meeting.
I might’ve broken my journey,
if it weren’t for the wall of police officers
monitoring the exits as though
they were checkpoints on the 38th parallel.
Phileus and his cohorts glanced my way.
They looked as nervous as squids in an ink factory.
I couldn’t stop smirking as Sergeant Cramer fired questions.
‘Name?’ ‘Jason Merlin’
‘Are you in possession of marijuana?’ ‘No’
‘Are you a marijuana user?’ ‘No’
‘Address?’ ‘46 Hercules Close, Blackburn Hills’
‘Hands where I can see them’ Cramer croaked.
The spotty little slug faced, megalomaniac
was already red from exertion.
‘Hands against the wall.
Carrying any sharp objects Jason?’
‘What kind?’ an alarmed Constable Jensen barked.
‘Baked bean tin lids,
they can slice you open like a circular saw, look’
I pointed to my scarred right hand.
‘We’re interested in knives, needles and razor blades’
‘They’re unhealthy interests Sarge.’
‘Constable Jensen will search your bag now.
Quite frankly you reek of marijuana.
‘Sarge, if the smell is that strong
why didn’t you sniff me out yourself?’
‘Why are your pupils so dilated?’
‘I’m hyper from insomnia.
Actually, the truth is Sergeant, I’m just so excited
to be talking to a big strong, handsome man in uniform.’
‘Watch your mouth.’
‘Gotta a mirror sarge?’
‘Show me your tongue’ Cramer ordered.
‘Now that’s more like it baby, oh yeah’
I wiggled my tongue suggestively.
‘Power truly is an aphrodisiac sergeant’
Cramer looked at Jensen to share his disgust.
‘Can I confiscate his Playboy magazine’ Jenson pleaded
‘Get out of here’ Cramer roared,
with all the menace of a toothless, arthritic possum.
‘Not you Jensen, you get back here.’
‘I was hoping for some handcuff playtime’
I sighed, before sauntering off to catch the train,
with my hips swaying and butt twitching.
I peeked over my shoulder
and blew Sergeant Cramer a kiss.
From the train I yelled
‘That intellectually challenged sniffer mongrel
has got to be sampling the contraband sarge;
maybe it’s hashish cookies in his kibble
but I’d bet on bong water in his doggie bowl.’