How to Make a Soho Quilt

I haunt the street building a life from other people’s pieces
And souls switch off the lights while bodies do their thing
And poets pen anarchist tracts to paste in booths
And cologned and sweaty suits pass them up for Frida, firm and forty double D
And clucking youths wear Brando moods
And blackened glasses keep each passing glance unseen
And skins naked under neon veins and leather sweat the madman’s shakes
And snake man screams falsetto dreams
And basement prophetesses roll their eyes
And loose-limbed priests shriek hymns at peeling skies
And jacked-up maids howl Baudelaire at their whores
And slickers slip one another roofies and condoms and lies
And louche ladettes in lamé queues stub half-smoked cigarettes
And lips wrapped up in chat slap noodle sauce on Louboutins
And a student passes the porno door the fifteenth time
And chalk and chucked up chips duet
And anxious eyes feel out the night for open doorways
And anxious hands are fast behind
And eyes slide and smiles slip and oils glide
And in the glitz the glare I hunt and hide
And in windows the reflection of my patchwork skin
And I can’t go home.
I would not let me in

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