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South side, upscale,
even the smoke
has attitude.
Your hat elegantly bent,
like your smile,
your eyes mock
money you carry
in an old leather bag,
a hobo in a tailored jacket,
taking stock, leaving poetry
unformed, broken.
Spoiled girls smell cash,
find their way to you.
I stroke a tonic and lime at the bar,
turning away men who ask me to dance,
your fingers a poem, begging to
be written.

16 Oct 09

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Dood, you had me at "smoke has attitude" and lost me at "hobo". This piece plays hard-to-get with me—as I (being a dude) instantly associated myself with the "Dude" in hat. So are you interested in this character or just intrigued?

I've never seen the upscale in my south-side and the term "South Central L.A." has tainted, for me, all southern titles with ghetto imagery.

Anyway, "Spoiled girls smell cash,/find their way to you." is a great. They bring to my mind sharks and blood in a metaphoric sense.

"I stroke a tonic and lime at the bar," is a common image I've seen in movies or have experienced, but never have seen depicted so masterfully in such short simplicity.
 — leroyle

Hm, I like it... I take hobo as an ironic term, as in he has no moral home, floating in the water of these circling, ravenous sharks... I like the way you use 'stroke a tonic and lime' to 'turning' as if you are pushing away the men, while your fingers itch to paint *his* fingers. Lovely.
 — andyleggett

Great imagery.  L2-3, 12, 14 are brilliant.  Nicely rendered.
 — sybarite

Many places in the US are upscale on the south side.  Yes, LA is not one of them.
 — unknown

Thanks for the props.
 — unknown

I had to go jack off after the first time I read this poem.
 — unknown

Turns somebody on.
 — unknown

South of the tracks is always redlight district. That is where this poem belongs.
 — unknown

About Cebu?
 — unknown