She was a street walker

by all accounts

She had a plastic rose

pitifully shedding petals

proudly adorned in her hair


But she did have moxie

and an awareness of diners

At her recommendation

I found an old school diner

serving greasy breakfast fair


As it was only fair

and I alone to boot

I invited her to break fast with me

Order what you like

It’s all on me


Chatting over coffee

and buttered rye toast

Her sometime sordid

sometime glorious past

poetically brought to life


She hungrily tore into eggs

yet somehow she was lovelier

than most dates I’ve had

She was certainly kinder

and possibly saner


I had a full docket

but I handed her a Jackson

on the promise of lunch

I really hoped she would

get a good lunch or dinner


She deserved better

than what life threw her way

but carried better grace than most

myself included

I’m not too proud to admit



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