In Ziploc Bags
A Cokehead girl,
a slimy body,
once a delicate beauty
whose teeth now yellow and gold,
whose crooked fingers
run across foreign countries,
revenging her dick-brain father,
selling sweaty socks
and day-old panties
in Ziploc bags
She had the ability
to transform herself
into a young lady,
a sweet little bird
now pushing forty
on a fragile branch,
a melancholy tart
with a P.O. Box
on the corner of corrupt
and paradox.
