The little ones suffer best

Because they don’t know any better

They don’t always fight

Cuz they don’t know how

Not like these guys

The one in the suit

Presses the kid’s luck

The one in the tie

Runs the child’s head into the carpet

Rubbing it back and forth

Smashing it

Into the pile

He’s twisting away

Like he did last summer

Twistin’ away…

They flip the punk over

*Flump*

The one in the suit undoes his belt

And loops it around

The boy’s neck

The one in the tie

Takes the tie off

And cinches the flailing feet

They’re locked in

This moment

Their communion

This taste of flesh and blood

Will be savored

Forever

Or

At least

Until the rest of

The bourbon

Washes it away