"LYDIA G."

Wife of nobody,
at the age of 26,
I wandered pawn shops.
Lost money in cards,
lost memory in absinthe.


I made the green glasses,
like tires rolled in worms,
one told me- pouring first
water, then hallucinogen over a
sugar cube.


I served old men
who whistled and leered.
I then shook from them their
confidence with my drinking.


Lydia G, wife of nobody.
At 27, whore of everybody.
Sleeping in gutters is better. 
Snake fingers and sausage hands
molded my body into anyone they
needed me to be. I always looked
up at cracked ceiling constellations
all night.


Lydia G, dead at 27,
sleeping fast and loose
with the wrong men,
wife of everybody.


[Inferred from a gravestone marked LYDIA G. And her death date. That was all that could be distinguished from the corroded stone.]