Neon cascade washes her
peroxide-blonde raven black,
silhouettes at the shoulder.
Dark lashes open/close as each new actor,
touches, tastes, and kills his ardour.
Confectioner’s shop with plastic display,
barley sugar lips, candy floss hair,
eyes lozenge-grey.
Walking, blue-jeans,
past the green youth in the theatre square,
to the striptease-joint, where raincoats stare,
through alcoholic or excited haze,
for the long-legged lady in black-net.
Mark Dalligan‘s fiction has been published in the Boston Literary Magazine, Ranfurly Review, Apollo’s Lyre, The Beat, Bewildering Stories, MicroHorror, EDF etc. He has only just started growing poems and is not yet sure if they’re mushrooms or toadstools.
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11 Responses to “STREETWALKER • by Mark Dalligan”
Comments
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November 12th, 2008 at 10:11 pm
Ohhhh… well… except for the very last line, I was gonna give it a 5.
The last line is a disappointment somehow. The rest totally kicks ass, however.
(yours in Chaos, Scarlett)
November 13th, 2008 at 12:37 am
Tasty, Mark! Tightly written with great imagery. Definitely a mushroom.
November 13th, 2008 at 5:34 am
Thank you Mark.
November 13th, 2008 at 8:40 am
Great work, Mark! Killer last line.
November 13th, 2008 at 9:48 am
You conjure up a vivid picture. Well done.
November 13th, 2008 at 7:22 pm
As tight as the tights the lady wore!
November 14th, 2008 at 2:00 am
Great poem, Mark.
Jennifer
November 14th, 2008 at 10:34 am
Wow… very vivid!
November 15th, 2008 at 12:22 am
Hi everyone,
thanks for commenting. Glad you liked it.
Cheers
Mark
November 18th, 2008 at 9:31 pm
I love the imagery. Great.
Gray
November 19th, 2008 at 12:47 pm
Thanks Gray.
Mark