Red Light Station

This house on fire

Muddy foot prints

Carbon cyclone

This house on fire

Critical damage

Chicago crash

This house on fire

The havoc it caused

Instinctively moved

Priscilla

Her crashing steel fists

Dragging along

The cold concrete

In these silent little suburban pit holes

Riddled with pitfalls

Gauging herself against the light

Casting shadows

From her amber eyes

The trickle trickle trickle of the sewer gutter

She watches herself in the rain

Purely situational

She has cocaine white nails

Soft butter skin

Trailing all over her thighs

A story told like valleys

Split in the earths crust

Her naked vortex

Decimate the coinciding faces

Leaving you feeling

Like a chain reaction car crash

Swerving down the free-way

Sexually explicit, overly private

She gravitates to image

Her fame a dying candle

That we are not sure ever got lit

Yet just was

And is, for now

Her T.K.O. kisses

From those brandy lips

Which I have sipped in moderation

And drank to excess

all the same

She is purely situational

Sexually explicit

Over all private