deepundergroundpoetry.com

The way yellowed teeth smoke their cigarettes on the dead end road down from work:some women still like to be whistled

at for a compliment.
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the painted dream of more tattoo's
                          from the parlors speaking flash.
the drinkers blow their paychecks;
                           round after round near the rail yard, old as the city itself.
these damsels save themselves now days.

Written by samael (Zaroff poetry)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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