The Pathos is Unintentional by the way
Women in high heels
Holding their bags tight
Their cigarettes alight
Stub out in front of Mummy Daddy
Switch back on
In the dark alley
Right behind Morisson’s
Tiny points of flash
Like their tiny sequins
Going glitter glitter glam glam
2 hrs later
Speeding down the highway
It’s tera baap and his brother
A wheee scram to Moorthal ke paraanthe
Pickle pyaaz chutney n dal
Saare baithke ungliyaan chaante
And the hands go back
Licked clean and wet
Into the pockets
Feeling linings, dry fluff inside
Digging into warm dirty depths
Anywhere, somewhere
Just away from the cold cold cold.
Or maybe in another’s pocket
To pinch an inch of skin in between
A nipple or friendly paunch.
A cop leaning, keeling over the car
Bring the windows down
The boot up
Throw up your hands
Open your legs
Let them check within without
And let you go
Because it’s just a charade you know.
Pass a blanket
A curved bent foetus of a figure
Scrawny neck, deep socket eyes
A small flame, a lil spoon
And a bubbling bit of high
A drag a puff a fix
As the glit clit glam goes by.