Yeah, well...

...much later, while drinking
coffee and reading about the
shoot-out in Charlestown,
Juicy, the day bartender, said to me,
Stella lives down there. She oughtta
move from that part of town.

Yeah, I replied,
mentally rearranging my apartment.

I Went Home Last Night with Stella

We’ll take my car, she said

We walked across the common
to the underground park
oblivious to the muggers snaking
from tree to pole....

... and then, fifteen minutes later
we pulled into a yard
that housed a large black and tan dog
caught yellow-eyed
in the beam of the headlights,
and tied to a weight that I just knew
he could drag if he were willing.

He didn’t bark,
he stared, shank muscles twitching,
That's Herbie, she whispered.
A low growl pushed us inside.

Later,
caught in the wonderful complexities
of limbs and mouths—
with the colors simply brilliant—
we heard from the open window:

bangbang!
bang! bang! bang!

Stella rolled to the floor
with a practiced movement,
slicing at the lamp on the way down,
dragging me along with her.

Naked, and in the dark
on the cool summer floor,
there came two staccato notes:

rat tat tat tat—rat tat tat tat!

Wha—?
Shuuuu, she purred softly in my ear,
and then, astonishing me, bit it.