Tonight She Won’t be Alone

He lies alone in an alley,

no job, no life, no home.

 

Pink umbrella under a window,

she works all alone.

 

Black BMW passes slowly,

wipers cutting the unknown.

 

Curled in a bloody corner,

he moans and moans and moans…

 

A light blinks on, shade drawn down–

Juan Carlos is home.  

 

A bottle thrown into the alley,

shut the fuck up in Spanish– 

 

he groans; she stares into darkness– 

it’s clear, he’ll die on his own.

 

She glares–headlights turning,

tonight she won’t be alone.

****



Categories: Poetry, Selection: 2010 - 2015

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