Saturday, November 24, 2012

They found him in his dark apartment
Laid out on the floor
The dog was licking out the rocks
glass in his hand
Lapping up the melted ice
His old record player was still spinning
But only playing scratch
His eyes lay open
His right hand on his chest
with a smoke burned to the filter

I guess that's how it goes
I guess that's how it goes

She was an all night waitress
She often had to leave her son
unattended in the night
It was a gloomy and foggy early morning
When he found her in the tub
Her hair tousled
Blonde and pink with blood
Each leg hung over the sides
Red speckles in the whites of her eyes
A hand print bruise on her throat

I guess that's how it goes
I guess

You can call her "Janey"
She'd just graduated middle school
And made sure she caught
her crush's baseball game
The stands were full
The summer night
alive in the field's over head high beams and the distant firefly flickers
The echoing crack from the bat
always lead to spectator frenzy
They found her in the woods
Behind the bleachers
Eleven teeth missing
from the left side of her face
Her lips, swollen and busted
Her fingers, filthy from the mud
Turtles nipping at her bare toes
come morning

I guess that's how it goes

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