He tells his buddy he would lay down in traffic for him.
And his buddy tells him he would do the same,
but only if no cars were coming.
They share an awkward laugh
and a bottle.
backs up against the rod iron
of a basement stairwell.
Looking out onto a near empty parking lot
where the moon forgot to die.
His buddy tells him he would take a bullet for him,
but only if that bullet was his girlfriend.
Perhaps they are not buddies at all.
The drunken mind begins to imagine scenarios.
Backing over something bumpy a few times
that laid down in traffic when it thought
no cars were coming.