Chandelier
On my way to work, the exotic night birds would ignite.
They'd cluster on the corner of Tenth and Sheridan Drive.
Frantic and brimming with bling and street charm
Painted in desperation, willing to give you anything.
The tallest one moved with a champagne confidence.
Flagging down thick wallets and throbbing tricks.
I nicknamed her Chandelier for her tacky elegance.
She'd be the one, if I could ever slay my conscience.
For two years I'd pass by that sequined corner at night.
Looking for Chandelier in a blue-collared, third-shift sky.
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