Le Prostitute

February classes commence
Test weeks and boring lectures.
Suction of capital from extravagant life,
Nite clubs, clothes and cheap lipsticks.
Vibey and naive matriculants want to 'enjoy life'.
Come March with no-strings attached.
"Bonjour messie.
Want a Louis Vuitton inexchange for le cookie?
Your seventeen-year old cookie?

Mid-month hunger pangs.
Saliva flooded mouthwalls
(The Tsunami strikes again).
All she wants is a man to take care of her,
Hemlines are getting shorter.
Plastic hair is 'growing' longer.
All you need is money.

He walks in like a cunning jackal
Approaching its weak prey.
Jows like a movie star,
Skin tailored with threads and buttons of Armani and Guess(es)
Wanna see my cabriolet?
She sees a BEEtypobrother.

"Bright future, secure mate.
This cake may be hard to bake again,
But what choice do I have?
I want a man with a car, town house and a secure job.
I won't settle for less."

Selling yourself cheap.
Baby girl, you ain't nothing but a prostitute.