a barefoot guy
in boxers
sitting on a
power-box
doesn't flinch
as i park
and walk in.

you know
you got a live-one
out back?
i ask
as she rings
me up.

yea
i called the cops
an hour ago.

want me to wait
till they
show?

thanks
but i don't think
he's trouble
for anyone
but himself.

what's up?
he calls
in a wet-cracked-bass
that tells me
he's been at it
a few days.

i put my case
on the hood
and keep a
safe distance.

it's over
over for me,
he yanks at
two handfuls of
dirty orange hair
and starts
moaning.

cops are
coming buddy
you live around
here?

you call cops?
he flashes black
tries to rush me
and falls face first
in the grass.

no man
the clerk
had too,
i say
halfway
throwing my back
out
getting him in
my passenger
seat.

he's all noodles
and cross-eyed
butterflies
for hands and
mouth.

i give up
finding his place
and
park on the street
a block over
from my house.

a few beers
even him up
a little.

tells me
his fiance's
been in germany
and iraq
for two years.

she's flying in tomorrow
and he's been lying
about getting on with
the union and
buying them a little house
because he was jealous
she'd find someone better
over there.

god
whatam-i-gonnado?
he grabs me
hard at the shoulders
pleading through these
pathetic little
paperclip eyes.
you need to
sack the fuck up
just be honest
and let the shit stick
where it splashes,
i say
wishing i would have
left his ass
to the cops.

no-no-youdon't-understand
i'm just grunt labor
for a brick layer
and rent the same
basement duplex
fuck-fuckfuck,
he grabs more hair
and bangs
his head
on the dash
three times hard
before the airbag
cuts me some slack
and decks him
cold.