child; teenage runaway.
Opium dealer....flapper....prostitute. Vampire.
Candles giving way to gaslamps,
to sputtering electric lamps, to gluey white sodium light...and
the brash, ugly neon of midnight in Manhattan.
in a man's black trenchcoat, her posture loose as a child's, Sioux
walks the alleys and side streets of New York till dawn.
She's long past fearing these dark urban canyons, valleys of death:
not for her, not tonight.
Death skips at her heel, tugs her eyes from face to face; yeah,
somebody dies tonight.
it ain't gonna be this kid.