he was a handsome man,
she said
to the police, my poetry
professor nearing
the end of her long
career.
he kept trying to grab
my purse
as I sat in my car,
but I wouldn't let him.
we struggled
and I may have kicked
him in the mouth
with my boot. I felt
bad for that,
because he had
such pretty teeth.
I imagined he did well
with the girls. he had a nice
voice too.
not too high, or deep.
he was young and tanned.
blue eyed.
but not very strong.
he never got my purse.
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