Cora

 

I met Cora at the Washateria
her heavy coin collection
a red wasp tapping at the ceiling
a sparrow in angry pursuit old fat crow flapping
blaming someone else

her hair in constant circulation
web servers running an exposed port
this aint no victimless crime
a cock roach hungry for the wild
her fingers like spindly branches a switch my
   mother told me to pick out
little red welps and piano notes in the margin
a flag discovered
harassed
Cora laughing in the river her wet pink gills filling
like crystalline pouches

she tells her story inside my circuitry
a photon filibuster ahem ahem to the chamber present
fumbling with her emotional expectation
dealing with her own shit
one pinky painted in pearl
lowlife praying the sinner's prayer in her full brown bush

she says stuff like, hopefully my story helps
   if I can and if I can't,
she's on her toes
her tongue like a lizard tasting the day
she chooses to do the right thing, Cora
does.

TA