Crack Down

It's a walk along crazed roads
the ones where women with black eyes
and a handful of teeth
will make love to you for a dollar
to lose this life in orange powder

And the Coffee Times drenched
in men with bullet holes in their cheeks
and tattoos of Tijuana whores on their biceps
eating chocolate glazed doughnuts in between drags

And these men know the pummeled women
          strolling the streets
maybe they were the bruisers
or maybe they're the saviors on rainy nights
when tattooed arms are the only ones open for free