Strumpet Street Folks

Strumpet Town Folks

Strumpet street in a tired carnival town,
all are ready for their time on the lash.
intrepid young man acting the clown,
ladies of the night look out for his cash.

Danger is crackling in a corner street bar,
innocence could very well be a price.
Intoxication comes not only from the jar,
street ladies have pretence to sell nice.

Needy, for needles in hungry red blue veins,
dealer outruns the heavy cop with the limp.
People laugh at him trying to hide the pain,
bullet’s still lodged in the spine of the gimp.

He doesn’t want their praise only respect,
after all it’s their streets he’s trying to clean.
Those dealers in death with poison to inject,
feed on apathetic people not making a scene.

And so comes the judges but not to judge,
they’re also entitled to their own libation.
Girls take the dollars not bearing a grudge,
these guys pay the fines during recreation.

And so the night goes on without a breath,
morning Lark’s drowned out at first light.
The junky or alcoholic who think of death,
mix with people who love the dark of night

Strumpet street folks don’t ask for much,
only to be left with what is their space.
They believe in life with a gentle touch,
alive, to feel a soft evening on your face.