'Garbage Vendor' Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

No love to lose.
Out to use and abuse,
'Fools', she says.

Patterns watched she got from mom?
Or perhaps past actions from dad,
That caught on?

'Love is just in fantasy books.
I don't have attractiveness,
Like a princess with looks! '

Framed to think she's just a piece of meat,
A broken hearted rose that's rare...
On fast filthy streets.
And no one is there to say,
Just how beautiful she is!
She believes this is the only way...
She can feed herself and her three kids!

And across the street on the corner,
Is one who paints...
City scenes for visitors
Who purchase these sites,
Called 'Street Saints'.
And not one dime goes to the one,
Titled 'Madame LaWhore'!
She seems not care...
'No one else did! When I was there! '
She shares this...ignored.

This circle of bad habits...
Stroked in hues on canvas,
Delight those who sightsee
Feeding those 'unseen'
But who are well established.

Like the artist who captures
And sells these 'views',
At the expense of those giving,
Free daily exhibitions...
To whomever they choose.
So that others may sit,
To pocket 'handsomely' off their blues!

'Garbage Vendor'
That's what I call this one!
That will be $200!