Sinking in bed,
Can’t quite find the floor
And my right foot’s
Still covered sheet,
With lonely, “lefty,”
Somewhere south a star.

I’d swallowed my tooth,
Earlier, an added topping,
And down went the slice –
To ever remember the,
“CRUNCH!” of pepperoni, so
Reminded, a right hook’s sting.

And she’d left the ice bucket
Atop counter,
The tenth time this week,
But I’d only smelled her, “note,”
The last I guessed
And the last it ever’d be.

In the next second, one eye closed...
A body was planted
On our street.

We're all so busy, and petty, and in a huge rush.

In a different light, the life turned purple,
and than black.
It stays black, until washed away
  by the same people who take out our
  trash.
It makes me wonder
  Are all of our imminent corpse just garbage
  waiting to be picked up?