The streets, these days, have a thick STD aroma,
& all that you hear, aside from the hunking horns
is the moaning theme of unfaithful pregnant moms
who are working late, just to be able to buy
the next piece of jewellery they've seen,
as the chopper in the air or the TV screens perhaps
voice out their concern about the not so scarey HIV.
There are worse ways to die, some voices call.
It's litterally, a f*cking miracle.