a poem a day for a year #21

by Amy Turn Sharp


would you believe that once when I was seven year old
I saw a man break another man's arm in a wrestling match
I saw his arm bend like terrible voodoo warcraft
crack pop hot damn
and I screamed from the stands
stop the horror
my voice shaky
my tiny fist like a circle pounder
and yesterday I saw a man break a woman's heart
outside on some stone steps of a fancy hotel
while I waited for a taxicab
the man couldn't even take the dark haired woman inside
and hold her by the warm fire while she cried
he told her awful things in my earshot
in the earshot of teenage tourists smoking cigs
even the bellhop dipped his head
I didn't shout out
when I saw the woman slide down to the steps and cry
against the witchcraft of his hate
I only tapped my foot 
for the taxi
I could not stop staring and the woman looked like 
she was reaching out her hands
and when my cab pulled away
with me inside
I rolled down the back window and yelled
stop stop the horror
my voice was clear and strong 
and it made the driver put his foot down
and we peeled out of the lot like
a Clint Eastwood film
and the cabbie laughed his ass off when I whispered
the heart is a lonely mother fucking hunter