An Ordinary Evening Poem by Sapphire

My sister tells me it was just an ordinary evening, but evening is never
ordinary is it? Once the sun has started to climb down the sky things
change. You and she were sitting in the den—the olive green vinyl
couch, sports trophies, new color TV, pictures of Kennedy and King we
keep turning to the wall, plate glass door, concrete steps to the back-
yard. You were sitting in the den, by the tone of your voice you could
have been asking are there any more hot dogs left or saying let's go get
high. She said you just turned around and looked at her and said, „Let's
kill him, let's kill the old man."