Hooker

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Free Verse Poetry
our daily headlines of late remind us all that there are some experiences penned by a writer that have, and always will remain, vicarious. whether a journalist, pulp-paper writer, or serious novelist or poet, most of us choose to explore what we know little or nothing about, wishing, in some disturbing cases, to understand. given the state of society at present, a writer’s perceived sadness—that quite frankly might be nothing but a personal delusion or aberration—is garnering a lot of eyeballs focused on print, not to mention the ubiquitous deluge of tv coverage. (painting by sarazhin)

Submitted: February 10, 2019

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Submitted: February 10, 2019

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Hooker

 

 

She tries to remain rigid,

even as her mouth continues to move

like strips of asphalt softening

through the pounding of life’s traffic.

 

She tries to bewitch her tricks,

as ancient strong hips

move like palm trees in cyclonic after-storm,

battered,

in want of rest.

 

Nightly lust reigns,

as she vies to just be.

 

Her duplicitous heart,

storms at her childhood,

as children of her born,

all betray the radiant face,

once with imaginings,

now of only forced smiles,

routines that die the death,

over…

and over.

 

Dreams of forever

trying to live out the past,

avoid the present,

visualize a future,

struggling to remain rigid,

bracing for yet another tomorrow,

the everyday hooker lament.

 


© Copyright 2019 Odin Roark. All rights reserved.

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