Steam curls from a Styrofoam cup
hot chocolate and marshmallows
stir her saliva. The cherry
chequered table is steadied
by folded cardboard shoved
under one leg,
and Steely Dan plays on the jukebox
down the back corner of Becky’s.
A chair screams, metal on concrete,
as an unwashed body shudders
on cold ground in the alley.
A growing red stain surges
to the storm water and a silver stiletto
protrudes from a fat gurgling gut.
She gulps the milky chocolate,
and pockets the rate he owed.