you set out for home. the streets for sex span long. kids are released from school. from O High to The Lake’s inns to the school high on the hill. you’re headed home. you weave between working girls. babies. taco stands. corner stores. the police. the sick shooting craps. playing spades. on a couch. in a semi circle. hungry darting out of doors. leaning on stop signs. bedless sleeping on cardboard. the world of The Blade. but when you notice the sandals, boots and pleasers. bussdown weaves. all the styles. Trapped divas. kids. you feel sick. some man asks you if your mama need help paying the bills. these girls need orgs to escape. they needed prevention. you want to be numb. but that probably says something about the world’s condition and who you’ve become. you turn your head. keep your eyes on the ground. but you’ve already seen enough. your conscience is being tested. your conception story came from something similar. your mother came from somewhere similar. you look like them in every way. Sticky boyfriend, or from the block you live there is someone in charge of shipments and transportation. just needed to know their prices. of you. the cut they’ll take. off you. you know the girls are beaten and drugged to stay. you’ll see 12 year olds getting pulled into cop cars. or a girl you know will be snatched, raped and beaten half to death. you’ll see girls running out hotel rooms pulling the bondage off their wrists, mess exposed, you always have this choice to make. You’ll have a hernia witnessing the color of their blood. it will be the cars with 5% tinted windows and tires the size of your down-bad luck swerving in and out of traffic just to know your cost. there is no financial district. here. there. in the zone. where you’re stuck working. there’d be a McDonalds. a body shop. a clinic. a headstart. a bus stop. a body of somebody. but somehow hours -after rush hour- there is a rush in the murder dubs. sex central. these lusty wallet-driving devils be busy. the cops just be opening trapped girls up. they don’t be freeing. they open, they give ultimatums, they make a mess of the shit. for fun. they coordinate with your owners. the private property enforcers. that’s how you know they built the system. here, you are the big bucks. here a bullet or knuckle or a badge will knock you silly. for trying to leave. elevate. out the bottom. enacting slave codes.