"Down at the J and Flying"

by Joseph M. Gant

Something strikes romantic in a truck stop troll
For pussy, dope, the night crawl stroll into that other—
The goin' in the 2 a.m. hours of the morn.’ Diesel
Pump perfume trails lead me to my hand picked ladies—
Prices never change (forty straight up, sixty half and half),
No internet escorts, craigslist scams - trannies love to mug
You ‘till you learn to love it too. You just pull in slow
Between two trailers, flick the lights off and on and pray:
no dick.
Lucking out, take home twenty minutes worth of woman
Names like Valentine, Afroditey, Joy parade; you try to hold
Your face straight, count your cash beneath the wheel
So she can’t see what you can’t pay -- look her over (just a glance)
For new sores, fresh tracks . . . fuck it, ya say to save your eyes—
Pick the dish and pay your bill. Tomorrow -- you tell yourself broke
Spun and driving her back — tomorrow gonna get me some Joy.


*first published in Sex and Murder Magazine