Sally's Life

Painted like a flower 
Breasts exposed for a stare 
She waits 
For someone 
To buy her a drink 
In her day 
She liked them tough 
Tattoos were exciting 
Fast cars a joy 
Now she prefers 
Thick wallets 
10’s and 20’s 
Men short or tall 
Doesn’t matter at all 
Be discreet she implies 
Don’t flash 50’s 
‘Cause no one likes 
Them here. 
  
Holding a corner booth 
As a place of honor 
She holds court
Smiling  
At every joke 
Reciting lines
From forgotten plays
Playing her part
In a bar 
Notorious
For artists and 
Working class types 
Most of whom 
Hate their jobs 
Or haven’t sold a piece in years. 
  
No action here 
Another dead night 
She goes home 
Opens the bedroom window 
Sending a signal 
To a cat 
Who jumps the ledge 
Walks in 
For the night 
A stray vagabond  
Who 
Knows every open fence 
And quiet place 
To nip a meal. 
  
In the morning she 
Opens the window 
Stroking his back 
Whispering to him
Feeling his strength 
Until he purrs 
Satisfaction 
And jumps 
To another day. 
  
She watches him  
Take a few tentative steps 
Weaving and dodging 
Between
This and that 
Before vanishing 
In broad daylight 
He may return that night 
Or be gone for days
Nothing binds him 
Except an open window 
And some food 
Offered by a woman 
Who understands his journey.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2009


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