The Dark Alley Poem by James McLain

The Dark Alley;
Is long and lightly lit
but dark and right out
the back window.
Watching early.
I wait knowing she will
and some times late
earlier than midnight
she comes.
she is always drunk and high
I hear her,
knowing I need it
but waiting untill.
A few come and I hear
their soft noises
trying to hide them
as the moths fly over.
she is out,
like the lite above
unmentionables splayed open
open like a raw wound.
An ever widening puddle beneath
while the mouth drools
too it's catches the edge of her
other and it runs together
as if
and with each I wonder if it's
and bending down
and kneeling
adjusting them some what
too her advantage
I move between them
checking her pulse
And as the pool grows wider
the moon comes out
and hides it.
Both buildings
on either side of the alley I.