Prostitute
She pulls a ciggie from her bra
the white stick between her teeth
Strikes a match
the flame brightens her darks eyes
She takes a breath
allows the tobacco to climb down her throat
She can feel its smoky hands
as they latch onto her lungs
She coughs, "Ay buddy"
"Hey Darl"
He eyes the fishnets - barbed-wire black
"Are ya lonely tonight?" she whispers
"Depressingly"
His hand on her bodacious curves
Her hand beckons him
to the door, number 24
He lies on the bed, naked
eager little bugger
She lifts her foot to the sheets
heel imprint
"Okay hun, what do ya want?"
"Everything baby, give me the lot"
Her hand on his thigh
Her fingers tangle in the hair
She cradles the balls
wraps her tongue around the knob
licks up the shaft
and moans on cue
She knows the routine
Always the same
Naughty nurses
Horny cheerleaders
that's the game.
Meth Boy
His eyes wide open
Blood veins his pupils
His nails like spades
dig holes in his flesh
He closes his eyes
and imagines bugs crawling
underneath his skin
Their black shells rub against the red surface
and their small legs cling to muscle
and their razor teeth gnaw at the bone
He opens his eyes
He scratches viciously at his arm
as if he can feel bugs
nesting in his body
He jabs a needle into the crevice in his elbow
The liquid climbs through his blood
like a red and white milky way
He closes his eyes
He can feel the drugs soothe his ache
like a rushing shore
or a calm rain
He his pain wash away
The flowing water starts to quicken
Swaying violently through his bloodstream
The water make the bugs grow
becoming furious gremlins
Stomping in his bones
Splashing in his wine
He can hear their hyena laugh mocking him
He opens his eyes
and slams his fist into the brick wall
Full-bodied Merlot spurts from his knuckles
Little red droplets puddle to the alley floor
He slams his head against the wall
His eyes shot wide
as he falls to the murky street
and the bugs scuttle away.
Street Urchin
He walks - a slight limp
yellow-stained tweed flaps at his side
Flames explode from the bin
flockering little red devils into the air
His raised hand feels the heat
reaching into the deepest cracks
of his palms
Smoke climbs through the black
and makes a cloudy abyss
in his maudlin eyes
Banshee winds threaten the fire
old tins roll over concrete
and paper planes are swept up in ferocious whispers
The flames begin to sway
teases the cool night with devilish licks
and brings a copper light to the darkness
There, shimmering flirtatiously
a pretty penny, a lucky break
the metal button on a ruddy wallet
He runs - limp forgotten
for a last chance at living.
Street Urchin
He walks - a slight limp
yellow-stained tweed flaps at his side
Flames explode from the bin
flockering little red devils into the air
His raised hand feels the heat
reaching into the deepest cracks
of his palms
Smoke climbs through the black
and makes a cloudy abyss
in his maudlin eyes
Banshee winds threaten the fire
old tins roll over concrete
and paper planes are swept up in ferocious whispers
The flames begin to sway
teases the cool night with devilish licks
and brings a copper light to the darkness
There, shimmering flirtatiously
a pretty penny, a lucky break
the metal button on a ruddy wallet
He runs - limp forgotten
for a last chance at living.
