New York City Ritz

By Ashley Crisp

Pay day was last Friday
558 dollars and 89 cents
A white, wrinkled man
Wearing a tethered red flannel shirt
Holds out a rusty soup can
Rotten cabbage and perch
Encompass the surrounding city air
In China town
He begs for money
I say yes
Thank god all I have is a crisp five.

Walking along the
Trash infested alley
I scuff my new Louis Vuitton pumps
Worth more than three pay checks
Should have kept that five
Flagging down a taxi
To take me to Trump tower
I nervously check my eye liner
In my zebra print compact
Tonight has got to be the night
I say yes
I hope my dress looks ok.

Anticipating dinner
I waltz into the restaurant
He sits wearing a pin stripe Armani
Hair slicked back with gel
Cautiously taking a seat
Our eyes meet
His hands gingerly reach into
The front pocket of his suit and
A satin black box is pulled out
Inside shines 2 carat diamond stud earrings
Damn this isn’t an engagement ring!
He asks if I love the jewelry
I say yes
My mind screams no.