From a Bastard Child (to his hippie mom)
Shawn Mak
Panties, tube tops, briefs and socks are strewn all over the floor,
hanging over lampshades, armchairs, refrigerator, and television set.
An orange lava lamp stands in a corner,
bearing silent witness to debauchery.
A writhing mass of bodies litter the dingy apartment.
Firm tanned torsos ram against sinewy pale ones under the kitchen table,
while flabby black bodies pound against jiggly white ones on the tiled toilet floor.
Anorexic teens are draped face down over the back of an armchair
oscillating to the thrust of brawny flesh, while
Obese schoolboys melt into beanbags
as lusty women clamp their wet mouths around their attentive manhood.
Occasionally someone leaves his station, takes two steps forward,
and immediately sinks into another orgy of naked flesh.
But a 19 year-old girl manages to stagger out of the kitchen area
and make it across the human carpeting.
She plops her bruised, scabby body onto the sofa
and picks a syringe off the floor.
Inspecting through bleary eyes the murky brown fluid,
she plants the needle deep into her thigh and trips.
She throws her head back as the rush of heroin
charges into her body, inflames her lungs, and flowers into her brains.
It finally collects in her stomach,
and infects the fetus that is just beginning to form
inside her whorish teenage womb.
Reveling in the carnality around her,
she spreads her legs again to welcome
the next intimate stranger.
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