Unfair Is Fare

Entrance to Night Court, 100 Centre Street, NYC

Yesterday was insane, yo! Insane. And I have the cracked ribs and the pain to show for it.

Someone who is vaguely from the subcontinent attacked me Monday evening, poured alcohol (inflammable rubbing, not drinkable drinking) over me and as I tried to get away, kicked me four times in the ribs, then beat up my friend, and when we and 20 (I counted them) police officers caught him five blocks away, he tried to frame me. This is my fourth encounter* with him.

He has been charged with assault. But he won't get much more than a slap on the wrist from my dear friends and old comrades down at -- yes, you again, One Hundred Centre Street, I had hoped not to see you again so soon, and this time I wrote a poem about you, but it's not ready yet.

Expect awful rhyming of "feet" and "street," soon. Thus ends my bleat. I don't tweet.

*To clarify: my four encounters with this person have been by chance. The Fuzz recommended that I get a restraining order. Today I went investigating, and someone else who was menaced by the person in question said they would give me a detailed account. But even if I collect a bunch of stories (I am certain there are many victims), what does one then do with that?