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A Night Of Love In Tijuana, Down Mexico Way

Dirty rundown cheap hotel
Bed crumpled with half-ironed
And patched sheets,
Stained with last night's lust.

Sour sweet sewage smells
Seeping through the open window
Above the noise of ceaseless traffic
And braying gringo tourists.

The fat white man lay on the bed
Stretched out post-orgasmically
His skull crushed to a pulp
Brains splattered on the pillow.

A trembling young girl-child
Searches through his pockets
Seeking his unspent dollars;
And he'd never see his wife or kids again.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
How does this theme appeal to you?
Last few words: 
One of Edna's less humorous items, I feel. My own visit to Tijuana was quite unpleasant but perhaps not as sordid as this one.
Editing stage: 


First four stanzas are redolent of "Buk".
not sure if thats a compliment to you but.....


Thank you, yes I like Bukowski, so it's a compliment. Except that maybe I am crueller.

Poet(ess) to the Stars

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