Maybe if you had stood aiming

a real enough crossbow

at a man twice your size

and told him you'd kill him

if he ever came back, you too

would fall that night

into dreamless sleep.

When you woke, you might

eat ice cream for breakfast. Watch

for new cars on your street

and more neighbors selling crack

from their basements. You might

invite me, the skinny Mormon girl,

to play cards on your front porch

in total defiance of Juan

next door, who says he'll get a piece

of your ass someday,

and chicks say they don't want it,

but everyone loves a good fuck.

You would borrow five dollars

from Mrs. Edwards,

the fat woman across the street,

and walk to Safeway

to buy a steak to hold against

your pregnant mother's purple eye.