Morning Streets
Muddied pools soak shoes
on grey pavements
as men in suits walk by
and children's voices squeak.
I sit inside a metal box,
a small car (Eco friendly)
reliving last night's sexy treats
a saucy smile on my lips.
Mothers run their kids to school,
workmen whistle, loud and rude
but all I muster is
a sleepy stare.
Traffic roars as rain cascades,
fashion trends float by,
as mindless plebs dropp litter
on the streets.
Jail bait girlies, half nude, all tattooed
wearing killer, ladies shoes,
totter by the bus stop
as men's eyes glaze and pop.
Last nights drunks look pale faced now,
swaying along crowded roads
as if they're doing
tangos in the breeze.
They rock and roll and trip and fall
looking ragged in the dawn
as hungry dogs
use legs as their latrines.
Shops throw up their blinds at last
as pensioners join morning queues
and police car sirens blast,
confounding brains.
I pull into the drive at work,
some guy's blocked my way, the jerk,
and stumble in
to grab my morning tea.
poem by Ruth Walters
Added by Poetry Lover
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