I live today in a whore tricked
out for Saturday early
evening sauntering in rain
under shiny black water
proof plastic twitching seductively for
cheap boys driving by slowly
slowly, windows down, laps
wet, blushing alone or full of face
with a mate to cover
gaffes and brag of conquest with tomorrow
drinking coffee black in the
office, muffled in faded rose
carpet and partners too old to
fuck me now.
orphan poems 