Hip Thrusting Hogs

On the backs of lowlife riders sit,
Those owed lots of cash.
And holding notes of written promises.
Promising to be paid,
Long overdue repayments missed.

Yellow bellied chickens home to roost.
Sit quivering yet hushed,
In their crushed velvet coops.
Told they are not to loudly sing.
Or chirp to poop on everything.

An upturned nose from a tower peeps.
Looking below from a golden trimmed window,
Upon the squirrels and creeps who squeek.
Knowing scoop shoppers are quit to leak,
Anything squeezed,
Seen by pigeons on the streets.

Nervously sits is one who pleaded the 5th.
Rocking in a chair twitching.
With an itch to snitch.
And hoping if this should happen,
Not to become someone's...
Female dog stripped.
Hit to abuse and daily flogged.
By sweaty smelly hip thrusting hogs.

by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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