Pimp

Hooked won't turn you loose
I won't let you go
hard to say
how many lives perished away
tricked out by my Brooklyn appeal
I deal you steal
your grandma's pension checks
to satisfy the get high
off my most potent shit
that keeps you running down black streets
searching doorways
along deserted blocks
with whores
rolling the stroll
running my track
holding my back
straight you hear
underneath my bridge
many men wait the night fall
gaining access to my family ass
bedizen in skimpy ensembles
switching booty cheeks
moon peeks smile
stiletto skyscrapers grinding asphalt
patent leather black catching the gleam of high beams
mighty mack trucks strobe by
I wait
I pole lean
a bent kangol tipped to the side
hiding one fucked up eye
that shifts without permission
stand looking and licking for cash money
sporting skinny jeans
my Abercrombie & Fitch
sneaker laces unhitched
keeping one eye on the main bitch
I call baby

**********
Baby girl


Yeah, my name Baby
they call me baby
spy calls me a lady
his main woman
I not a child
a silly little girl
I am woman at twelve
we smoke trees
eat value meals from mickey d's
shop at the coliseum
watch Hannah Montana on tv
he treats me well
I make his money
cause I love my man
oh my job
I'm a whore
his bitch
who is on his track
I party
you know 20 for head
50 for that
(baby stands proudly pointing to her what she calls "pineapple pussy")
finger twisting her weave
just like a little girl





© 2009 Lepadah





To: lepadahxxx



lepadah,

Your poem affords a glimpse into a kind of life I have only either read about or seen in a film.  It is simply stunning in it's simplicity and hard hitting truths.  It is up to your usual standards of excellence.  An exceptional read--- thank you for sharing this one

sherrylynne


To: lepadahxxx
Posted: Nov 08 09 05:21 AM



An extraordinary piece of writing....which stopped me in my tracks.

Would you give me permission to nominate this one from you for the next IBPC?






From: 68degrees (68degrees)
Last Visit: Mar-21
Posts: 1849


To: lepadahxxx



I'd pay to hear this read. Someplace that serves boilermakers and I could smoke while listening to it.

Nice rhythm here. It runs down the page. Not even sure why you have separation. You don't need it.

68degrees