The Alley
By Apolinario B Villalobos
Beneath the shadow of two buildings
Pockmarked with holes, squares
Enough for one or two,
The alley beckons to me
and through it, I squirm my way.
I go through it with counted steps and smile
at girls with pouting lips
as I was prodded on with curiosity
to peek inside the room
foreboding, clouded with gloom.
Heavily made up faces, some young, some old
all with ready smile, entice the timid and the bold
for short-lived happiness along the alley
where life is lived from day to day
and for what comes next
Nobody could say…
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