on the main street corner
where mean deals are played
a nickel, a dime, buys it all,
any soul can play the game.

pass the paper bag forty,
a swig to take control, easing
the shakes can smooth the ride
when lost shadows collide.

girls and boys, old mothers,
ripened in a wasteland paradise,
strolling the market streets,
parlaying sweet pick up lines

someone died not long ago,
no one remembers
if they knew his name,
it's all the same anyway.

and today there's a new kid
on the corner of 6th and high,
a pure transvestite virgin
eager to play the game.

she'll smile for wrinkled dollars
and forfeit her stuffy surprise;
just ask the blonde transsexual,
first time's always the best

just ask anyone…