Madge - version dos

[Truerenigma]

Hot! Oil seeps out of the asphalt road;
cars make a sticky noise as they pass by,
sticky noise just sounds like you don't know how to describe it. "their tires stick to the tar.."i think the first three lines can be conflated our conjoined into one concise thought/line.
sounding like fat people sex on a hot night.
At the bus stop there is a woman with
overly-processed straw blond hair, i get what you're saying with over processed, but it's clumsy.
lipsticked lips like a freshly cut neon fig,
and deep crevices in pasty skin.
It makes me think her name must be
something like “Madge”. her skin makes you think here name must be Madge? I'm sorry but this is coming of as a clumsy, presumptuous, pretentious, holier than though rhetorical put-down on the working class. It's speculative and un-grounded.

She has probably done a year
or two in the prison they call jail. the type of jail is not important, especially when we're only musing on unfounded speculations.
A jail without any of the
Mayberry RFD homey qualities
where the town drunk sleeps it off,
then lets himself out in the morning. unclear, clumsy. Was the jail she was in the place where the town drunk sleeps it off, or was the Mayberry jail where the town drunk sleeps it off?

She's obviously on the way to work,
wearing the ubiquitous medium-dark
brown knit knee length dress that serves
as the standard uniform
for servitors in such places
as the occupational cleaning industry
and chain cafeterias where they
monotonously repeat their zombie phrases
“hep ya”, “moe tea”, and “cum’gin”. so she has a job, what's the point? That the narrator is above their position of employment and use of ungrammatical patois?

Through the visual heat distortion
swirling up from earth as convection oven awkwardly over modified, and grammatically unsound- earth as convection oven? Makes no sense.
I can see her smoking a cigarette,
and I wonder how someone like her
can afford to smoke, when a pack cost
the equivalent two hours of work.
Well, I guess you find a way
when it is a matter of life and death! well, we know It's not A matter of life and death for her to smoke (even though we know it may be for her to quit), so it fails as irony, and a self-satisfactory sarcasm it's hardly worth hanging a poem on.

©2013 -Erthona

It seems whatever humor that was intended for the piece was lost to poetic "pose" in the form of clumsy over modifying that fails to accomplish its (perceived) goals.

Also, as a whole it seems unprovoked.--did she spit in your eggs?

It could perhaps be rescued by stripping it down to simple, concise, unmodified prose arranged into units (something like noun/acts upon--noun). From their, losing nothing to over modification and pose (poetic or otherwise), begin again, by carefully inserting your puns and/or punchlines.

JMHO