Bottle Cap

by michaelcahill

Bottle Cap

I wake up with cuts--
semi-circles
with ridges
a mystery to a groggy mind

another drunk night
another fight
with no one

I'm sure the sun would smile
if I deigned to draw the drapes

my hand sweeps under
that foreign land
under the sofa
a bottle cap
it's green
with red splotches
I know those blotches
were inflicted by some fool
(I use my sleeve
to sop up drool)

this bottle cap
I know I've seen it
once before

a peppermint schnapps top
but of course--I remember
it's that cap
from days of yore
before my core became sore
I was a fool with a bottle cap to blame

I recall it put up no resistence
when I slipped my fingers
gently round it
and began to twist
it wasn't long
before I cast it aside

it offered no protection
for what it proposed to
seal within

well, that is just
a memory unremembered
that she told me
most unkindly
wasn't my finest hour

my friend, this bottle cap
you did me no favors it seems

and now I place it on the table
and when my brain is able
I'll fill it with the good times
we once shared

but it might be night
and I feel like a fight
the guest of honor
has arrived