April by Alan Catlin

The half way to hell houses
she’d been staying at revoked
her rights to stay after one
too many nights tricking
for meth on her knees as
Satan’s supplicant wearing
City Mission reject jeans
with inseams torn to the crotch,
scuffed knees visible through
pounds of ground in dirt
and grease stains, dried blood
that has been sealed over,
sheer, formerly denim work shirt
with a name, April, scrolled
on breast pocket, barely covering
her skin and bones, bloody
gums exposed when she opens
her mouth to speak or inhale
butt ends of picked garbage,
discarded cigarettes, haunted
eyes lost in some crazy town
place of untouchables and lepers,
paranoids and sneak thieves,
hitching rides at night to places
even revenants would not go.

Alan Catlin
Alan Catlin is the poetry editor of misfitmagazine.net. His latest books of poetry are American Odyssey from Future Cycle and Last Man Standing from Lummox Press

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