It’s not my place to interfere with faith.
God knows why people do the things they do.
He seemed a decent guy. He kept his place
the way a neighbor likes his neighbor to.
His boy seemed happy—played out in the yard.
His wife, a little gray, but still looked good.
I’m sure this thing has hit her pretty hard.
It’s really such a quiet neighborhood.
So when he screamed of course it woke my wife.
And then she woke me. Made me call the cops.
I still can see the shaking, bloody knife.
I see it in slow motion as it drops.
His eyes are wide; he screams, completely wild,
“My god, my god has let me kill my child!”