Listen 
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street walker
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tessie walks the video taped route of main street everywhere she walks truncated with the obsolescence of her prime her hips of sweet roll grace sway from east to west with an historic recollection of sweet indulgences lingering past their time painted desert face faded with age like gouache on stretched loose canvas blanched by the sun faded face maps her poignant pain of lost lovers lividly her flaming red headed hot tipped locks curl with the last night's protest hanging on her gypsy-ed shoulders limply recalling the resilience of youth full aspirations her rhythmic moving feet are as constant as a yellow blinking street light her slow-footed jaunt is as familiar as a dirt road meandering endlessly and her piece of the people's picture puzzle here or there wherever that is one piece among many of the whole picture patch quilted with our human fabric |
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Janet Cannon |
