We Walk the Streets
We Walk the Streets
Whenever she stops me
on my midnight rounds
just to chat about the night
I shine my flashlight in her eyes
and whisper low
so she can’t hear me,
“Lolly, it’s your intelligence
and taste I find so appealing.
Unlike others on this tour,
you will never see me stare
at the upper lip you’ve
carved on with lipstick.”
And so I tell her I must go,
provided she’ll be good.
Then she giggles,
thrilled again to be on her way,
almost as thrilled as I am
not to have to take her in.
Donal Mahoney
Copyright © Donal Mahoney | Year Posted 2010
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