my daughter and I pass
the back door of the building
cowboy hat man smokes

my daughter’s bag slips
down her shoulder slope a bit
cowboy reaches for her

she hops off the curb
into the still parking lot
zips away from him

her eyes rolling to him
showing off much of their white
the way cows’ eyes roll

cowboy looked at me
laughed like what you gonna do?
what to do, partner?

with his mouth open
I could see his gums hanging
black blanks for fled teeth

I think he reached out
to pull the backpack strap up
her twitchy shoulder

sank away from help
sometimes kindness terrifies us
holy hell they’re awful

the dangling gums of the kind