Sometimes
you can put a pillow down
As
you know you are about to knock a body to a floor
You
can set the room; move the coffee table, or the night stand
Throw
the goose feathers in a bag of parts upon the hard wood boards
Watches
hit hours, hands strike midnight
Have
to have a last call and leave some whiskey in the glass
Pound
that column on the bar top for the tender to pitch to the sink
Sometimes
a head needs the fresh air of street lights and car engines
That
burn in the gut shifted from butterflies to wasps
The
look in the other set of eyes did not and you are supposed to explain
Choice
of words, how so, to deliver
Sometimes
you can put a pillow down
Saves
a lot of shattered metal, when the bones break
And
a body gets up stunned numb racing out into the street
Gets
run straight over like a tabby cat
Bloody
in the hood of some other bastard just trying to make it home
Guts
like paste drying like a neighborhood blood clot
Telling
the officer what happened like point blank
Could
have used a pillow mam, just a little cushion
That
the drink was not full of nothing
Makes
a body give up living, dying a little bit each day
Thought
the bottle had hope and it was nowhere, swigs of nowhere
Makes
a man feel like the universe is all about filling up a shot glass
For
just one sip; that is all a life needs, just one good sip
But
women like you are like the reason the shot glass always tips
Always
a reason, always a spill wishing for a pillow just once
To
keep a few drops, to drink a few drops down and savor
Before
the blood comes gushing from a body knocked out by a fender
Looking
for his heart wailing at the moon
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