As a teen dropped out of school,
The streets are her own institution
This is the only means she can pay her son’s tuition
Dressed skimpily, she strides along in high heels
The street corners are here office, where she seals her deals
She depends on this lifestyle to provide meals
Striding along the road in a dress made of spandex
Her attention turns to a being who waves his index
Dressed scantily, its cold we are in winter season
She saunters to the risen index, to complete her mission
The coupé transmutes into an inn, as they go all missionary
Swaying side to side like a reed in fast flowing water
Exchange of phony sensations for Washington’s and Benjamin’s
Just as nocturnal as an owl
Her work helps her fill her son’s bowl
He is growing up fast, dear Leroy
For he is her bundle of joy
One of these days a client pretends to be coy
Exceeds his spell and enjoys her amenities for free
It’s an occupational hazard
Mr “Coy” licks her jaggedly like a lizard
Ragtag like she has been ripped inside by a blizzard
Staring in the mirror
Her doppelgänger is a distant cue of her former self
Freckles, wrinkles she is aging but not gracefully
She has to vie with the fresher and more energetic ones
It’s the only work she has known
Ever since she was born
Its money per mourn
Her life has taints
But who are we to judge, we are no Saints
Word on the street is that she is infected
The real truth, years back she went to be inspected
The results of the inspection left her jaded
Who are we to pass judgement?
When we are not judged
They have such high moral campuses
Acting like they don’t have issues
But behind those saintly eyes
Dark secrets, immorality are covered
At the corner of 5th Avenue she stands
She sits in the bar sipping down her sundowner
She prepares for another day at work at sundown
She is the sundowner lady