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Victimless Crime

Frances Gaudiano

The bag lady whispers into her beautiful bottle
And the bottle whispers back soothing lullabies.
She can sleep on a park bench with the maggots
Writhing in her rotting flesh.

Can you hear the incantations Bad Girl?
In your black leather and boots,
Pretending to be not what you are,
Beware.

The world curses crudely
At those who learn the rules
And dare to break them.

Speak less loudly!
They shall not be disturbed –
The preserved princesses
Who do no wrong.
Their socks have always, and ever will,
Match.

The inclines down their perfect noses
are tortuous and steep.
It is hard to cruise beneath their
Condescending glances,
Even midst your cigarette smoke
And alcohol fumes,
Resplendent in your full array of
Decadence.
It takes a bit of magic
To snub their designer living
And scrape the streets
For every shred of pleasure.

Can you tell the plastic people
You do not want their cardboard dinners?
Tell them
You want to taste life tartly
Smarting tears of surfeit.

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