Yet another.. odd poem

Well, I found another poem.... but... it doens't make sense to me now. But poetry isn't supposed to mean anything, it should just be. So i guess I pass that qualification.

Going down the street
all I see
are prostitutes
and peoples car keys
the world never seems to change
in the century we have to endure
people still losing things
people still selling things
if you know what I mean
not just their knick knacks
but their bodies
any surprise I see?
Not really
crimson satin corsets
brass keys attached to a metal ring
lying on the street
stabbing hot rubber
crashing, flying, dying
no one notices though
'just another incident in this century'
why did the owner of these keys leave them on the street?
must have been selling her figure
because the card on her keys
resembles the mascot of a strip club
down the street
Limp brunette curls
Skin hugging corset
and a skirt that barely covers her ass
why do women degrade themselves so much
to give their bodies to men
to be messed with
only for pleasure
it's sickening, disturbing, frightening
that these jobs are even available
int his godforsaken century of sluts and war
hopelessness, lying, calamity
as I walked into the strip club
to find the owner of these keys
the strong smell of beer
and mens pleas
paralyzed my senses
and sent me into a mood somewhat curious
and
melancholy
Why get drunk and have a hangover?
why have someone give you pleasure
When the next day all they do is take your money?
The complexities of the human mind
sent me into a typhoon
of curiosity
and pity
"Hey baby
want me to give you some pity?"
Oh Aphrodite I wish I could
But I am smarter than that
I would if I could
but I shant for the sake of my wallet
and my feelings.
I stuck the keys
in her cleavage and said
"Honey, baby
you have better qualities than your body
you have a bright smile sculpted from ivory
and an attractive personality
but an aura that emits a loathing touch
give up your job
and come live with me
for the sake of your humanity
and ple3ase..
don't leave your keys
where people can pass on
unknowingly
it's all your fault
you horrifying, seductive beauty
you are responsible
for this incomprehensible irony
but still come with me
and lets pass
through this era of tragedy





What's interesting about poetry is that certain images and colors show up in your mind. For this I was trying to get browns, and crimsons, maybe a beige and an occasional green. What did you get?

-Kathryn-