Trafficker
Among the shadows where two streets cross,
A woman lurks in the dark and waits
To move on when a policeman heaves in view.
Smiling a broken smile from a face
Painted over haggard bones and desperate eyes,
All night she offers passers-by what they will
Of her beauty wasted, body faded, claims gone,
And no takers.
Similar poems:
- One Of Their Gods When one of them passed through the market place Of Seleucia, toward the hour that night falls As a tall […]...
- The Sun On The Bookcase Once more the cauldron of the sun Smears the bookcase with winy red, And here my page is, and there […]...
- The Day Is Gone, And All Its Sweets Are Gone The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone! Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast, Warm […]...
- Eyes I used to believe that comprehension began right there; That what eyes failed to make sense of, was insensibility. Every […]...
- Pasa Thalassa Thalassa “The sea is everywhere the sea.” I Gone-faded out of the story, the sea-faring friend I remember? Gone for a […]...
- Dream Song 76: Henry’s Confession Nothin very bad happen to me lately. How you explain that? —I explain that, Mr Bones, Terms o’ your bafflin […]...
- Far Within Us #5 The nights are running out of darkness Steel branches grasp The arms of passers-by Only anonymour chimneys Are free to […]...
- Baby Face WHITE MOON comes in on a baby face. The shafts across her bed are flimmering. Out on the land White […]...
- Working Girls THE working girls in the morning are going to work Long lines of them afoot amid the downtown stores And […]...
- While Someone Telephones Wasted, wasted minutes that couldn’t be worse, Minutes of a barbaric condescension. Stare out the bathroom window at the fir-trees, […]...
- Move Eastward, Happy Earth Move eastward, happy earth, and leave Yon orange sunset waning slow: From fringes of the faded eve, O, happy planet, […]...
- Sonnets xvi WHEN in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rime […]...
- Sonnet CVI When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme […]...
- Sonnet 106: When in the chronicle of wasted time When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme […]...
- It sounded as if the Streets were running It sounded as if the Streets were running And then the Streets stood still Eclipse was all we could see […]...
- Villanelle: The Psychological Hour I had over prepared the event, That much was ominous. With middle-ageing care I had laid out just the right […]...
- Cumulatives STORMS have beaten on this point of land And ships gone to wreck here And the passers-by remember it With […]...
- Dream Song 4: Filling her compact & delicious body Filling her compact & delicious body With chicken páprika, she glanced at me Twice. Fainting with interest, I hungered back […]...
- Passers-By PASSERS-BY, Out of your many faces Flash memories to me Now at the day end Away from the sidewalks Where […]...
- Evening water for dance Shadows last. Walk the paris streets, Slow. Sweet rain, All their eyes linger Within my soul, Evening. […]...
- Under Cover of Night To slip into your shadow under cover of night. To follow your footsteps, your shadow at the window. That shadow […]...
- Fire and Sleet and Candlelight For this you’ve striven Daring, to fail: Your sky is riven Like a tearing veil. For this, you’ve wasted Wings […]...
- To Helen 1 Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicæan barks of yore, That gently, o’er a perfumed sea, The weary, […]...
- The Thought-Fox I imagine this midnight moment’s forest: Something else is alive Beside the clock’s loneliness And this blank page where my […]...
- The City You said: “I’ll go to another country, go to another shore, Find another city better than this one. Whatever I […]...
- Shadow March All around the house is the jet-black night; It stares through the window-pane; It crawls in the corners, hiding from […]...
- The Ball Poem What is the boy now, who has lost his ball, What, what is he to do? I saw it go […]...
- Your tiger (in china it is symbolic Of darkness and the new moon) In your night’s hollow The tiger stalks Black grasses […]...
- The Inheritance Since you did depart Out of my reach, my darling, Into the hidden, I see each shadow start With recognition, […]...
- Our Boat Starts At Night Our boat starts at night From the beach of Yen Kuang. Great ships sail only for profit Only small boats […]...