"Oh! Horrors!"
There's a buxom hooker strollin',
struttin' on Sabino Canyon Highway,
carryin' her wrinkles in a bag!
Chiaroscuro
in afternoon light,
delightful in black;
she's stopped for a moment,
set her stiletto heel for me!

"Oh! No - A real "ho", I scream!
She stands aggressively,
as I slow; I stare; she glares
provocatively, defiantly.

I stop.

Tall, blond, smartly dressed,
slick smile, statuesque.
"What's she doing here?", I think,
smack in the middle of innocent dreams,
of suburban queens,
among houses of buttoned-up bliss??
What's she doing walking alone
so far out of town; I can't cotton this!

Could this be her territory?! No way!
A pimp OUT HERE? Just outa sight?!
She stands out, a cactus wren
among scurrying suburban ladies
lusting for malls. With her huge bust
determined to make a sale
she leans down, peers in,
she's a wench, a tart looking for balls!

"I'm GAY, I say. I smile.
I just have a question or two:
"You look so out of place," I say;
"Is this your space?"
She guffaws, blatantly, boffo!
looks me in the eye:
"every now and then
I feel a communion with the birds,
desert powers; I'm free and clear
these hours of peace.... I feel.....
I can love and be loved, I can let go,
forgive....."

"But nothing grows in the desert," I say,
"but cacti and razor wire!"
"You'd be surprised," she said!
And I was.

Jan. 2, 2009
Tucson, AZ