Sunday, May 2, 2010

Prostitutes and Streets and Home.

I live near broken roads
in between dirty fences and run down churches.
Oh...and prostitutes.

(photo found here)

Late at night, after work, I drive home.
And, sometimes I get scared.
You know, after the car's parked and there's no one in the streets.
Just me and the dark and my heat hot breath.
The pulse of my heart.
Breathing. Heavy.
Yet, when I look over my shoulder
I know it's okay,
because she's always there
he's always there
they're always there
Looking. Waiting. Watching. Protecting.
Even before they get into that stranger's car.

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