Stop
Consider the mothers all over the earth
Who have just given birth
To death
Lost their minds
And are gazing at their infant corpses
With that expectant and perfect love
Stop
Consider the worth of the life
Of the last man who died
In the bottom of an olive-green dumpster
Stop
Ask a clerk for directions
Knowing next week the brain
Mapping highways for you now
Might be sprayed on the porn magazine racks behind the counter
Stop
Wonder at the tale of the illiterate man
Who died with his angina pills
At his side
Died because he couldn't read
Directions on how to open
The Child-proof bottle
Stop
Listen for the first rattles
In your very own chest
That give you a hint of what death
Might one day sound like
Stop
There's a bad cop with a bullet
In his blue-black gun
Who thinks shooting all of you
Would just be good clean fun
Stop
Somewhere
Right now
A baby is beneath a pillow
Held on their face by a father
Stop
Come clean
Tomorrow's Sunday
Wear green
Wonder if your preacher
Has fucked anyone
Right there on that altar
Stop
At dawn
Someone will sit crying
In a bed gone crimson
Beside someone they loved
Right up until they pulled
The 12-gauge's trigger
Stop
How many places
Have you ever wandered
Not knowing that the dead
Was fresh and just beneath your feet
Stop
