Sweet Innocent Goes Hungry Again

He desires

the jaded ones —

cynical smiles and spiked

collars; faces pale with 4 a.m. —

not makeup; bleeding

poetry into empty

coffee cups.

One smiles at him,

bleakly. “C’mere, pretty boy.

Get me some coffee.”

After gulping it down,

she turns to kiss

her girlfriend. Tongues

twist in the dim light

and he can almost taste

the coffee.

They’d eat him alive.

“More coffee, boy.”

*****

M.A. Mohanraj

October 25, 1996