Break-in

what a fool
to leave the shop
door so loose, so easy
and inviting.

a few towels, a hammer,
a dull thud and he was in,
his SUV huffing quietly
across the street.

concoctions galore he
spread, a noiseless
rhythm to his quick
work, he knew
the electrician's habits.

early morning orange juice
(a pesticide)
followed by coffee
(a dollop of mercury)
pastry in the fridge
(a shake of rat poison)

out the door
he hurried, the fool
didn't even have
an alarm.

the night swallowed his
truck as he zoomed down
Sixth Street, his lights
off, his cracked
laughter loud
inside the cab,
Toby Keith singing
some scum about liberals
(How he loved that boy!)