Tell me, my friend, when can I send my spirit gently into that good night? How many times do I have to die before I get it right? Every car crash, train wreck, overdose, misstep, splintered bone, rug burn, danger zone, poisoned cup, open sore, bitter root, slammed door, rotten fruit, tool shed, chicken shack, demon seed, heart attack, foul deed, flash flood, drowning pool, splattered mud, ridicule, taut noose, hanging tree, hot seat, safety latch, knotted sheet, lover’s leap, cruel twist, sudden shift, slashed wrist, whiskey breath, itchy wool, charges due, paid in full, circus freak, Judas kiss, hide and seek, losing streak, broken tooth, swollen lip, busted jaw, sinking ship, hard luck, hockey puck, sucker punch, mother fuck, hot iron, nasty cold, phantom limb, flat spin, steel glove, rusty nail, faded love, hammer claw, twenty gauge, monkey paw, tombstone, gaping maw, friendly fire, lost and found, piano wire, last rites, foul deed, prairie dust, Jimson weed, stock tip, bad trip, razor blade, muscle rip, chain saw, pole axe, pin prick, candle wax, crack pipe, dope ball, monster high, bad call, de-tox, padlocks, sweat box, ticking clocks, hair lip, pratfall, bull whip, brass ball, matching set, sacred cow, tangled net, marriage vow, and every other barren point of black that litters the eternal Book of Life are only punctuations in its bloody text, while waiting, waiting, waiting for the death that’s  written  next.