The Rapist
In my night outs to night run the city that never sleeps
            escaping the hunger pangs that attack me in my shanty
I’ve come across women in different levels of nudity
            from skimpily dressed to completely naked
Their outfit screaming ‘I want to be raped’
And I wonder ‘Aren’t they asking for it?’
Of course naked women are asking for it
            like light and moths they call men to feast on them.
I know if I want something I can always ask for it
Like the beer across the counter, or the whiskey served in tots
But I don’t have money for either, nor for the booty that I can get for free.

The women smile and wave at me
And I know tonight I will have sex, even if it’s in the dark alley
And if someone stumbles upon us mid-coitus
I will yell ‘her clothing was asking for it’,

She shouldn’t be parading naked on the streets of our city.


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