South Side, Chicago Town Whore
Michael Lee Johnson
Remember me?
South Side, Chicago town whore.
I’m the brown ass lady,
green eyes in a speckle of excitement
your fantasy white bitch tonight in living color.
I’m the girl with dark shiny skin
cooper tone like a penny,
or an ad for suntan lotion
but the cost of many silver dollars
night baked in my purse like brown potatoes,
with wild crocodile shoes,
a crooked smile.
I’m the rotten tooth lady
with the wounded left eye
shadowed black,
with cut scars on my belly,
and aborted street babies.
I’m out of tune, out of touch,
but out for a good time, at least
some painless sex, hand full of change,
and baby food.
I’m moist in mouth, sacrilegious are my lips
open for excitement,
eager to ingest, and be forced to do so.
In my face lean forward hungry eyes,
genitals of sex-starved skin lookers;
affair makers, lawyers of the books,
men of the cloth,
stealers of their children’s piggy banks
all for pleasure
$25 this week for a quickie,
$175 next week for full service.
I’m the lady cribbing sex dream babies of wild men gone insane.
They're the men twisted with thoughts, focused on their imaginations.
When I finally fall asleep, the few men taken that night
go to bed clutch to thousands of oriental,
black, white, red, sweet papaya faces.
Men, to me, are nothing but attention seekers,
tinker toys of facade, big wallets of professional fools.
Police whistles, gang whistles, men, wind whistles, at night confuse me.
As my body sags with age,
diamond on my finger,
gold chain around my ankle
bleeds, hurt the burn inside.
Some white dudes
refuse my way, neglect my flabby breast, nowdays.
They want to teach me free vocabulary of the poor, humbler.
When I no longer entomb their bodies,
I will remember them,
request their hearts from their wives,
let go of these pigsty streets.
I'm really very fond of all of them,
milieu, who thinks of love this way!
I’m a cut scar baby
rock one more time
South Side shore tonight.
Entitle me: scare face baby
South Side, Chicago town whore.
Michael Lee Johnson
Remember me?
South Side, Chicago town whore.
I’m the brown ass lady,
green eyes in a speckle of excitement
your fantasy white bitch tonight in living color.
I’m the girl with dark shiny skin
cooper tone like a penny,
or an ad for suntan lotion
but the cost of many silver dollars
night baked in my purse like brown potatoes,
with wild crocodile shoes,
a crooked smile.
I’m the rotten tooth lady
with the wounded left eye
shadowed black,
with cut scars on my belly,
and aborted street babies.
I’m out of tune, out of touch,
but out for a good time, at least
some painless sex, hand full of change,
and baby food.
I’m moist in mouth, sacrilegious are my lips
open for excitement,
eager to ingest, and be forced to do so.
In my face lean forward hungry eyes,
genitals of sex-starved skin lookers;
affair makers, lawyers of the books,
men of the cloth,
stealers of their children’s piggy banks
all for pleasure
$25 this week for a quickie,
$175 next week for full service.
I’m the lady cribbing sex dream babies of wild men gone insane.
They're the men twisted with thoughts, focused on their imaginations.
When I finally fall asleep, the few men taken that night
go to bed clutch to thousands of oriental,
black, white, red, sweet papaya faces.
Men, to me, are nothing but attention seekers,
tinker toys of facade, big wallets of professional fools.
Police whistles, gang whistles, men, wind whistles, at night confuse me.
As my body sags with age,
diamond on my finger,
gold chain around my ankle
bleeds, hurt the burn inside.
Some white dudes
refuse my way, neglect my flabby breast, nowdays.
They want to teach me free vocabulary of the poor, humbler.
When I no longer entomb their bodies,
I will remember them,
request their hearts from their wives,
let go of these pigsty streets.
I'm really very fond of all of them,
milieu, who thinks of love this way!
I’m a cut scar baby
rock one more time
South Side shore tonight.
Entitle me: scare face baby
South Side, Chicago town whore.
