just in case.
it is sunday morning and we have had rain all weekend.
in the house on the corner it is 2 a.m. and she comes home to intruders,
2 of them;
the she in the house on the other corner steps out to water the plants and finds someone there,
more than once,
and he has words to say to her.
another finds a thief in her garage and when she yells at him,
he yells back with names and obscenities and continues thieving.
the house 2 doors down has a vehicle violated and we thank god it was only the car.
on twitter, the women talk of peace, say we've been conditioned to fear, that guns can never be the answer, and i wonder where they live, what their stories are, and understand once again the always neverending truth of my outsiderness from poetry and art, because what i know to be true is that, after a gathering of women - outside in the night, discussing these current events under the stars - the women with guns went home to a sound sleep and peace of mind. the first she, she of that first house on the corner, fled for the night to somewhere she thought safe. the second she slept not at all.
and so begins the real truthtelling.