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.