Drive, holdup, friend (A tale of two for the taking)

By JC Nigado

Drive, holdup, friend

It was to be, when one night

About minutes later than ten

He came to view, seeing

My short signal at the corner.

The street stopped, and I rode

The surprise cab, unsuspecting

What the big hour would bring,

When a couple of chancers crossed

In tentative first assess.

He’s looking good, I combed him

A thirtyish aspect, pushing hard

A smile almost to a grin,

When suddenly the wind blew

And I stammered a thought.

Was it a weary hunch,

A foreboding of Eros to come?

As the wheels swerved fast

From Magallanes, he drew a gun,

Declaring a cold intent on point.

At first flash I knew right --

It’s a policeman’s active arm,

And my head spun, afoot:

Was he legal on the loose?

Suspended or some, what fits?

Then, he gave a curt order:

Cash and cellphone, he briefed.

I assumed ease, amused, much

To his puzzle, brooding brows

And irked wet to a threat.

Hey! he waved the gun,

Without pointing, but angry

All the same; I was resigned

To ride out the storm, brewing

For a night of flirting suspense.