A routine traffic stop turns into a chase.

An old blue Buick---

It takes the time to stop at a stop sign,

And one passenger, young white male, skinny,

Wearing a St. Louis ball cap sideways,

Hops out fast with his hands up high.

The car proceeds at a high rate of speed 

Down maple avenue, but loses control

And skids to a stop, high-centering the median.

Two men jump and run for the trees,

The police on their tail with a dog.

One young woman gets out of the car

And gets on the ground face down,

Yelling, "Bleeeeep you! Bleeeep youuuuu!"

While they cuff her.

The police have the first young man in custody,

The Cardinals fan from back at the stop sign.

They ask him to give up the names.

He says he just met them today,

And doesn't know they're real names,

But maybe one is named Brent?

The cop wants to question the girl

And asks her the same.

He tells her it is her only chance to come clean,

And that when they catch the other two,

And they admit to knowing her

That'll be it.

She'll be charged with felony obstruction.

"What's the driver's name?"

They ask her. 

"That's Brent," she says and rolls her eyes.

But the smile the girl smiles

When she thinks of the other one,

That man-child on the run from the law,

Tells me she is in love.

And when they ask,

She flatly states,

"I'm not telling you his name."

It's a telling smile,

A telling eye,

A telling know,

His name is tattooed on her heart.

And if the cops really want to know,

They should check the tattoos 

On the rest of her body,

Because I would bet good money,

His name is tattooed somewhere there too.

-jenn