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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/837462-Pay-your-Toll
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Thriller/Suspense · #837462
A twisted quasi fairytale of a man on the run for not paying his toll.
One day I decided to go for a drive
Out through the town and then back.
In and out all of the streets did I drive,
Even on the railroad track.

All of a sudden I passed by a sign
That stood on the side of the street.
I drove a little closer to see what it said,
And it said, "Pay Toll, 500 Feet."

I said, "500 feet? Who owns that many??"
I pulled up to the window and threw in a penny.
I hadn't much money, and no feet of that kind.
I only had two feet, and those feet were mine!

My car pulled away and disappeared out of sight,
But not far behind me was a blue flashing light.
I pulled to the roadside and stared back in vain
At three skinny policemen, pointing guns at my brain!

They said, "Turn the car off and open the door.
Put your knees to the ground and your head to the
floor.
You're under arrest, you owe us some money.
Don't break a smile, this ain't the least bit
funny!"

So I turned back around and started my car.
I put it in gear and drove very far.
I reached city limits but needless to say,
The police car was faster and hot on my trail.

Now I didn't know this when i started my car,
But the driver's side door had been left ajar.
Outside was a jogger who jogged very swift
Who tore open the door and said, "I need a lift."

And without another word he got in and sat down,
Strapped himself in and said, "Head to this town."
He pointed on a map that he held in his hand
To a town that he said was called Gagmatam Land.

We got to the town, a little before six.
We went to the bar, and ordered some drinks.
The police had seemed to be gone from our sight,
so we relaxed at our table, just watching the
night.

Soon I asked this man for his name.
He said it was "Marlaban. Marlaban Mabe."
I asked, "What do you do?" He replied, "glad
you asked!
I sell people feet, to complete all their tasks."

"I know why the police were chasing you down.
You didn't pay up, your penny fell to the ground.
For a small sum of money I can sell you your feet.
However, I warn you, don't walk in the street."

"In the street there's a hole, that follows you
around.
He'll grab at those feet and drag you far
underground.
Inside his mystical fortress you'll stay,
Making sure that you don't get away."

And then Mabe reached down into his sack.
He pulled out a nose, and a hairy man's back.
He pulled out some feet, some hands and a crotch.
He pulled out a chest, with small speckly spots.

"Take what you need," said Mabe with a smile.
I took 500 feet and said, "See you after a while."
He then told me he lied about the hole in the
ground
It was just an old rumor, it had never been found.

So Mabe left the bar, and started on home.
And there I was left, sitting all alone.
I put on my feet, walked out of the bar.
Across the parked lot, and back to my car.

I arrived back in town, in the morning around
three,
And some policemen were still looking for me.
They pulled me over and said, "Get out of your
seat."
And at that time I paid them their 500 feet.

I turned back around, but then with a shock,
They said they were putting me under the lock.
I tried to calm down, while both my hands shook
At the notion I couldn't be let off the proverbial
hook.

I groveled and begged, I even said please.
The police talked it over, with a whistle and
wheese.
They finally agreed I could go on my way,
Provided that inside my house I would stay.

So always remember when going to drive,
Have extra body parts, but please don't take mine.
My body's mine, and your body's yours.
Oh, one last thing, keep ajar your car doors.
© Copyright 2004 BassoAstratto (ponzijc at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/837462-Pay-your-Toll