My neighbor was a biker, a pusher, a dog
    and wife beater.
In bad dreams I killed him

and once, in the consequential light of day,
    I called the Humane Society
about Blue, his dog. They took her away

and I readied myself, a baseball bat
    inside my door.
That night I heard his wife scream

and I couldn’t help it, that pathetic
    relief; her again, not me.
It would be years before I’d understand

why victims cling and forgive. I plugged in
    the Sleep-Sound and it crashed
like the ocean all the way to sleep.