PUT ME IN COACH 

We had come to the end of my legs 

Any further and you'd have been  

at the foot of the bed where the blood  

was that had fallen from the hammer  

that was swinging from the end of my  

arm or hand as it were. I call it my five  

legged mini me. No head or eyes or brain  

to dream with or figure out how to get to  

Connecticut without leaving a paper trail  

or use a credit card, because the  

police would spot that for sure.  

Just a palm and five feetless fingers