The Loving Whore

Lying on her back
while a stranger,
heavy, sweaty,
pumps away.

He thinks hard
of macabre images,
trying to stay
his sad 3-incher.

She thinks, too,
of home, a son,
food he must eat,
clothes he must wear.

She is many things,
a whore, a mother,
a working woman,
an AIDS carrier.

What, then, is right?
Adoption? Foster home?
If she loves her child,
should she roll over and die?