Her skirt to short; Her hair flung from one side
to the
other
'gotta dolla, gotta dolla?'
Dirty finger nails
grazed her hips
Red lipstick faded on her cheek
With a smile of hypnotic
schemes
her mind deceiving her towards
an out-stretched dream
But cursed by suicidal things
Suddenly blind
like a wristwatch without time
She can't tell yesterday
from today or tomorrow
'gotta dolla, gotta dolla?'
over there,
there's a one armed man
with graffiti on his feet, face and hand
parched skin
wrapped like a drum around
the tight throat of melody
war songs between soldiers
and long lost sons'
they peer out
from piercing bloodshot eyes
her blade's serrated.
Cigarette tossed aside
