A Book in the Gutter

The skinny Asian girl
with raggedy green panties
and a Gobi diamond smile
was waiting patiently for yet another god
to add to her list--
some unlikely benevolent hero
who would wander in from the West
and rescue her broken life
reconstructing its shattered porcelain
with a tourist's magic wand

And although I felt certain
I was exactly the opposite
of everything in her dreams
the credits for a Bollywood movie
had rolled across her eyes
as she sat cross legged on the bed
studying eagerly
the fatness of my wallet

The glitter of perfect irises
darker than any damage to my soul
(though that may have felt mighty at the time)
told me for better or for worse
I had stumbled upon a book in the gutter

A little too far from comfort and
caught insanely by the cover
I knelt to fondle a breast
shrugging away differences like dirt
flicking the nipple
into the hardness of a nail

I felt the pages flutter
fingers lingering here and there
curiosity devouring lines
sticky phrases moaning for more
the stink of sex and intoxication
pleading feral cat hungry in my ear

But each connection felt random
devoid of context emotion or meaning
and my gut knew
only money
would break out her fire
any embers of flesh
deemed incidental
by a gulf of worlds
always scribbled naked
across the emptiness of a whore

So I lied
told her I was ten times richer than Ambani
& like a bitch
she wouldn't stop coming
and then I couldn't put her down
at least not until dawn.