The Women Of The Marketplace
The black market was clogged
By the preoccupied populace
And there as I sat
In front of a kiosk
On a badly-beaten russet chair
That creaked everytime
I passed kinetics and physics
As I fancy my lips ajar with cigarette,
I saw women
Going in and out of stores
With paper bags and lavish shoes
Sprawling, lingering upon
Their silken skin
And I noticed that there
Are two types of women:
Women who leave
Without closing doors
And
Women who slam
The doors upon their exit.
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
Added by Poetry Lover
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