Denizen of the Dark

by Johnson P J

Street lights drill holes
through your dress
as commuters on night buses peep
to catch an eyeful of exposed skin
then pass on with indifference

An acquired sense of shame
keeps you in by-lanes
from where you watch
the world goes by

Those who solicit your favour
amid the stench of piss
and pheromones
abandon you before daybreak

Society stamps you a prostitute
researchers label you contagion
cops call you a criminal
but you are destitute and miserable

Nobody knows your sorrow
none hears your yell for normalcy
from pillar to post you run
like a mad woman,
fatherless children at your breast

The prophet
who spoke of the first stone
may not be there in the crowd
Meanwhile you swallow the insults
and entice another client with a smile