Strange joint

Calloused hands

Softened eyes

You could tell

He’d lived a hard life

Probably took to selling

As a way to get by

Tray in her hand

Need anything?

Palms her a 20

Vodka water


Keep the change

What a gentlemen

You smoke?

Her eyes to the side

Offering a smile

With the answer inscribed

Here’s some good shit

Pretty ones only

Guessed that’s his thing

Eyebrow raise


Given with a wink

Well rolled

Metallic blue filter

This was his thing

Certain he used that line

On many a woman

Maybe he was

Expecting an invitation

To smoke it out back

Maybe reach under my apron

And try to make me feel alive

But that wouldn’t be the case

And he could tell

Aversion lining her face

Shame she’s working till close

Light in her eyes

Rum on her clothes

Eyes to the side

Biting his teeth

Swallows his pride

Nods and he leaves


24″ x 18″ 

Unframed Acrylic on Paper


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