There's a lady
who smokes her
cigarette
every time that
I drive by

her hair is long
her glasses fogged
over
blank and lifeless
eyes

she's always sitting
on cement
her clothes are old
and sagged

in an apartment called
"The Aquarius"
where she
lives from drag
to drag

My eyes are always
trained on her
and her coffin stick
she's slain

She's alone
and so am I
it's
cigarettes and pain.