This other one-- my partner actually
said, oh my god-- interesting, and-- this poem
that you wrote, because I asked him to read it, read this poem.
What do you think?
And he just freaked out.
Maybe you'll tell me why.
It's called "Other Victims."
"Thank heavens for victims who find their way to folly.
They walk on the lean streets in your place
and into a world rich with abuses.
Their faith would have no place to shine if not
for that journey, the possible headlines,
and sigh pushed out by the odd relief that it wasn't you.
You are lucky.
The man you live with would never kill you,
not in the violent way other people die,
all horror flick theatrics with costumes so dirty
they could only thrive in other parts of town,
not here in the quiet rooms, where your only surprise is
a kiss from behind.
If he ever wanted to be rid of you,
your lover would do it kindly, perhaps a poison that
falls in love with your sleep.
A compassionate man, he won't let you die in public or alone.
He won't let you suffer without him.
Never worry.
He'll take care of you at home."
[LAUGHTER]