The Cerebral Catalyst

She had the softball player look...
Baseball cap, stocky body with tits ready
to burst out of her Jason Varitek shirt.

Muscular thighs that helped brace a pitcher's leg against the rubber
on the mound.

But misplaced she was, this budding superstar was a streetwalker
on Main Street South... Two teeth missing, and eyes that gleamed with
street sense.

I was just another horny male whose libido was bursting out nine ways sideward
when I saw her flag me down near the new Razza Bar.

We went through the customary "are you a cop" quiz...

"No, are you?" she said laughing... exposing the Chiclets missing in her mouth.
I grabbed her left boob to make sure I wasn't being set up...

"There, are you satisfied now?" she asked.

I took another look at her... she could have been my niece playing for anywhere junior college... or a shot-putter on scholarship, hard up for a date.

Not a prostitute in Worcester...
"No... I'm not satisfied, I'm not satisfied about a lot of things." I told her as I pulled over and opened the door to let her out.

"Your loss," she shrugged and waved down another customer.

Maybe this guy will save her, show her the potential of goodness in the world; maybe he'll turn her to religion.
Or maybe he'll kill her.
And reality will continue.

______________________________________
posted 01.07.08.

Emergent Properties:

Main

F.A.Q.

About

Archives (alphabetical)
Archives (chronological)

Links - Updated 05.05.08

Books - Updated 05.05.08

Pandemic Poetry

Taglines

Site founded May 7th, 2003, by Project Catalyst.
All written material is the copyrighted property of its respective authors.
All other elements can be blamed on the Cerebral Catalyst Editorial Board.