Giving Rosie A Ride On Constitution Street Poem by Ted Sheridan

'........Fifty bucks.'
She would sell her body for Fifty bucks.
A body that shows horrendous signs of abuse.
Stretch marks from orphaned children.
Track marks from what orphaned them.
Runny nose too clogged with powder,
to smell the stench in which she lives.
Bloodshot eyes that can never focus
she sees no future in her sorted past.
Today is just another day out on the street.
Nothing last forever.
'........alright Twenty-five. But....
I keep my clothes on
and no touching, just head', she smiles with a limp.
Walking like a lame or wounded animal
she hungers for sweet relief from her afflictions.
Relief is but a fix and a fix cost just another trick.
She has learned the tricks all too well.
She leans forward now begging for attention.
She fills the car with second hand generic smoke.
She tosses her fake hair and says,
'...........alright Twenty,
but that is as low as I go.
She lies.
Knowing that the truth cost nothing.
If the truth be known,
free would be more than she considered herself worth.
Her dad got it for free when he took it at will.
She always covered his debts with her pain
as part of her died to pay for his sins.
And so it is that she remains a slave to her pimp.
Today is just another day out on the street.
'Come on fellow. My feet are killing me.
Just buy me a drink and we'll have some fun.
Believe me Baby, I can show you
a real good time. Give Rosie a little kiss.'
But there is no response.
Rejection comes in all colors....
as the dark blue car pulls away....
and the driver still is Fifty dollars ahead of the game.
Today is just another day out on the street.
'.........Fifty bucks' she says as
a red pickup truck stops to talk.