Streetwalker Lament
She tries to remain rigid
even as her mouth continues to move
like strips of asphalt softening
through the pounding of life’s traffic
She tries to bewitch her tricks
as ancient strong hips
move like palm trees in cyclonic after-storm
battered
in want of rest
Nightly lust reigns
as strives to just be
Her heart stops
storms of her childhood
children of her born
all betray the face
once with imaginings
now of only forced smiles
routines that die the death
over
and over
Dreams of forever
trying to live out the past
avoid the present
visualize a future
all…
still trying to remain rigid
bracing for tomorrow’s
streetwalker lament
Share
Print
Save
From a short reading list in my college expository writing class, I chose a book with the stories of 10 prostitutes. Every one was dramatically different from the others.
I have walked the streets of San Francisco where streetwalkers were thick as flies. They approached me at every 10 feet in one place, asking, do you want to have a date?"
Ron