“Last Night”
Last night
two men stood on our porch at 2 AM.
I woke at their knock
while you peeked through the blinds
and described them to me.
Standing there in the hall,
I listened as they knocked again
and then tried the door handle.
I tried to get a good look
at these two people
that I was already planning to murder.
Possibly with my old pocket knife,
the one I keep in my desk drawer.
Or with one of your marble bookends
mottled and green, like an old brain
petrified on the shelf.
Or with my hands
if necessary.
But gently,
so as to not wake the children.