She’s left her bra hanging over the shower to go out on a Sunday night.
Her sheets are black, silk, on a bed that hasn’t been made in over a month… Her clothes lay in crumpled heaps on the floor.
She has $12.00 and her welfare check in her purse, next to her condoms and frosty pink lipstick!
The car she drives is a once blue, now grey and rusted Nova.
She has empty Marlboro boxes scattered on the floor; and Big Gulp cups half full of Dr Pepper and cigarette butts-
Her Wet n Wild black eyeliner is caked on under her tired eyes.
Her aerosol can of Aqua Net is on the floor by her feet.
Tonight, she’s drinking Budweiser in a glass!
And her three sizes too small thong is crawling up her… (ass)
She’s got on her favorite off the shoulder top… one she wore when she was 17 with her two year old son at her hip.
Today, her breasts are popping out, and her once flat tummy is rolling over! The ring on her finger has stained her hand green.
After her 6th Bud, she’s feeling good! She’s working the tables and the room! She talks about Star Charts, and a sweat lodge she belongs to… Where she sits naked, the only woman in a room with four older men.
She yearns for her younger days… some biker boyfriend long gone now—under the high school bleachers- with her pants at her knees- and all I can think as I watch her, is “Please, dear lord don’t ever let that be me!”
