Billy's god is a good night's sleep

Sometimes I have to try to remember the word surrender
I start by remembering the letter S and then it comes to me
And I vaguely remember a corner store
But not the corner

It was the day I met Billy’s god

She would later ensure us that her god was big (really really big)
Big enough to know it was still morning when I thought I was too late
Big enough for a cold grilled cheese sandwich squirreled away
Big enough for flowers when you got home

For bills paid on time and Saturday night plans

I haven’t finished discovery but as far as I have found
It’s the only corner store that you step down into
My arms are still healing from swimming so hard
Clawing to go up but sinking instead
Ankles pulled downward

It was the worst day of my life
It was the first day of my life
I thank Billy’s god for being a working vacuum and bookshelves

Billy’s god is a good night’s sleep

I know it was summer, and that I’d smoked half a pack, and someday
I’ll pinpoint the intersection where that corner store still lives
With the step-down stairs that started my surrender