Losing Streak
Hit the blood bank,
a cash transfusion
to buy needed thrills.
Tossing back Manhattans
and Singapore slings
in a Bronx dive
where crucified Jesus
is near naked on wall
next to pinup dolls.
I dial five times
ten numbers though
I was never good at math.
She says “come see me
bring some cash, no
I ain’t charging you.”
Cops give a long look
as I stagger off the train
on my way to her.
Even with all the
men she’s known
I go in bareback.
Too stupid to ask
what I’ve left to lose
on another losing streak.
Horror Sleaze Trash 