Salt

Splayed there
With a nail sticking out of my hand
Stuck in the ground
I got to thinking of all the worse scrapes I'd been in
Getting your ass out of the fire
Paying for it with my rank, my name, my other self
And in return, you turn an inward grin
As my shins wriggle
The sharpness rusts its way
Infecting the same hand I used for spanking
Which is a kind of karma
If you but believe
In the backside of a bad joke
And that's me
In between the kicker and the punch
The line you signed me with
As you walked
Hammer in hand
Blood pumping in a grin