The Meat Market
Quiet streets but no silence.
Smell the scent of greasy food
fresh raw fish and drink.
Watch the morning slowly rise;
the shadows come alive.
Forms of lazy bodies slowly materialize.
The light that is bright is false.
So is the light in the eyes of these men,
lost in smoke;
the woman wavers across the street harmlessly,
the neon light reflects on her naked body,
she’s like a movie star,
a fallen angel,
tall, slim, firm.
Dances in the gutter,
her movements rounded,
like a moth around a light.
Three dark shapes surround the light,
hand movements flash
around the moth fluttering.
The noise is silent.
There is no threat.
Page(s) 19
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