The first thing Sheila did when she
found out she could turn invisible
was go to the store and steal
a fifth of Southern Comfort
and a box of Lucky Charms for the boys.
They’d been eating puffed wheat
for a week,
out of a plastic bag.
And sure enough they squealed
when they saw the rainbow and leprechaun,
then tore into the box for dinner.
Sheila left them in the kitchen,
went to the living room,
lit up a bowl,
twisted open the bottle,
and had her own dinner.
Then she called her mother
and told her about her new power.
“Well, you know, honey,”
the woman said to her youngest
in that cracked, smoked,
7-11 clerk voice,
“no one ever really looked at you anyway.”