The Tale of Streetwise Profit

Your guess is as good as mine.....

 

In and out and roundabout

They see the bishop scream and shout

The Streetside Profit, angry lout

He sees his lover’s frigid pout.

The cripple with the wooden cane

A constant source of backside pain

She’s knocking on the door again

And cursing at the weather vane.

As Tad the Rabid mongrel dog

Is feasting on a rotten hog

His brain a mass of spongy fog

So Lisa watches eyes agog.

With shredded tights and leather skirt

Her finger nails caked in dirt

The surgeon’s breasts still firm and pert

Face a book called “Always Hurt”.

She nods towards the Streetside guy

He winks, and thinks what he could buy

If he could just tell one more lie

To break the chains before he dies.

Around the corner Dig the Art

Comes racing on his wooden cart

Graffiti is within his heart

Decorating every Mart.

Back home at Dig and Lisa’s house

Their crippled mum uncorked the Grouse

She swallowed loud and hard to douse

Everything…

 

So Streetside Profit walked away

From profiteering easy lays

He left his lover in dismay

And turned towards another day.

 

As Tad the Rabid whined in pain

Against his back the wooden cane…

 

Reviews

[Ravenskald]

Wow, an interesting snapshot of "streetlife" , I love the use of the word "profit"
Prophet - A revealer of things
Profit - A revealer of things for a price :)

Nice piece of work

~raven