this little babies gonna be called worcally (wrg)

I'm having a good day mentally but no so much worcally.  And—and this black guy on a bicycle called me brother, which was like, spot on.  I would have ran him over with my truck if he hadn't said anything.  Yea, I had to make an illegal you turn so what I remembered gas was cheaper down the street no problem, and he smiled—him he smiled*, he said, Watch yourself, brother before I could plough into him.  I was looking somewhere else, you know?  But, I mean, I still I got the brother out of him.  

He can't take it back—I'm too far away.  And I basically saved his life by not running him over.  I would've taken the brother out of him, you can bet.  I mean, he doesn't drive a truck.  Babe, he doesn't drive a truck—I drive a truck.  Whoomp! whoomp!  Okay, that was wrong.  I mean, he might drive a truck...black guys drive trucks.  Okay, look, I'm running around.  I'm late.  Who's that?  It's me again—I'm talking.  Can you feel me?  Feel me here, and here.  Now feel my heart again.  I've had to make two trips back already, to previous places that I had been and was not supposed to have been again, but, I mean...I don't know...I keep forgetting things—I'm so excited!  

And then in the morning I made a left turn like an active driver, whereby I don't hold up traffic at the stop sign but get in the middle lane once oncoming traffic dies down and wait for space or a nice one.  Stop signs are the devil.  They get away with so much and they'll get in your way, even if it's clear, you can bet.  Cops know this, but don't think of them as cops, but police officers, unless you're married to one—don't tell them we've been betting either because it's useless they don't need to know everything, next thing you know you're giving away your grandmother.  You can say I'm a copwife or a man's cop at the local jive bar.  Fuck stop signs.  They are the poor man's red light.  

And this guy let me pass, he was nice, but I wasn't paying attention and the car behind him honked and he drove past eyeglaring me.  I tried to yell out,  No!  No! It's not what you think come back!  But he was far away two far aways and I was in one despair so I held my head with one hand no big deal stuck the middle finger out with the other to let the guys know, Go on without me folks, I'm not going to make this round.  Ah, he's despairing, they'll say.  

I was looking down at my coin jar, that's what I was doing.  But I wasn't counting it, it's not what you think.  It's not really a jar, it's a cup holder.  I was staring at it you don't understand I wasn't thinking how much I had in it I'm not one of those guys dammit that knows how much is in his coin jar—ah, it's not even a jar!  Now you know where I keep the coins in my car—it's not even a car.  God, it's a truck!  You know everything about me, you know that I've been looking at my cup.  You're gonna break in because you know where I keep my coins you'll look for the cup holder you son of a bitch oh shit it's the cops writing me a ticket

rgw.

* Who?  That one? 

- No, not him.  He's a sully little figure isn't he? 

- It's no brainer.  You smile at people.  

- That one. 

- Look at him, he's still got it.