Archive for the ‘Prostitute’ Category

7.09 (1425)

She told me her story,

astounded, my eyes widened,

and remained so.

… Somehow, I know, the words being so powerful,

that when I close my eyes,

late night, early morning,

trying to sleep,

I will still see vividly.

(To be continued…)








Pie In Face

I’m in the hotel room,

watching TV, sound turned down.

A fat Englishman is allowing himself to be humiliated,

he’s a comedian, overly well paid,

and the spectacle, I gather,

is for charity.

So, everybody is laughing and cheering raucously,

pleased to be participating in a good cause,

self-righteously glowing.

I can tell this without hearing the English words or general TV noise,

which would only confuse and repulse me.

I can also tell that somewhere nearby, tomorrow,

in a schoolyard, a playground, a city street,

a child, or several,

will be tortured by their classmates,

pretend friends,

who right now are smirking,

inspired by this comedy show.

Charity indeed.








Paris, 1930s



We say: Courtesan,

it benefits the man.









You do what’s expected,

every step,

you pleasure their expectations.

You, Rotary Club Chairman,





“42, wow! Being a prostitute agrees with you!” he exclaimed, eyes wide, genuine vibe, no trace of irony.

“You look awesome, beautiful.”

Lyuba, 42.






life draining.


You do it because they pay you.

And in the current economic climate

you’re lucky to have a job, right?

So they say.

Thus they manipulate.

From childhood they’ve conditioned us

to do what’s best for the system.

They use, abuse and delude us.

Perpetual prostitutes,

morally destitute.


we sneer at sex workers,


just like us,

everything’s corrupt.




Sport is a rort, these days.

If you wanna make it work

you have to play the game,

smile ambiguously,

entertain …

TV interview …

… Say the right things, at the right time,

in the appropriate sickly sweet voice,

and you’re in.

… You win!

Alas, shame I don’t speak American…

… Lingua Franca,

and discarded morality…

We dance for Dollars

and cents.




It’s World Fair Trade Week,

whatever that means.

“Like, fair trade prostitution?” I ask.

… Unexploited, with no pimps.

An honest and fair exchange.

Is it possible?

… In this age where sex is no longer sacred,

well, maybe.

But, then, *everything* is a commodity,

and *everyone* wants the best deal.

… And money is tighter than your ass.


Likely, no.




Once upon a time,

they welcomed us

and our strange, brilliant ideas.

Funny, how things change.

It used to be hard to get out,

but get easy to get in.

And Lady Liberty smiled opaquely,


Then came openness and restructuring,

so as to say,

doors opened, doors closed,

houses were besieged,

some fell,



lines on maps fluid…

It’s easy to get out,

but hard to get in.

Big thinking no longer enough to impress,


system will stress:

“No more welcome,

unless you undress…”


Sex slaves (1).

Posted: 2016-04-20 in Anja, Blick!, Prayer..., Prostitute

Life sucks and then you die,

full of compromise.

“Fucking bitch!”, swore one to another,

as she went off, making money, denying everything proper,

her past, her present, her future,

dying a little more, every minute.

“Once a whore, always a whore,” said the wannabe wise man,

but aren’t we all,


Then there’s the modern-day slave auction,

Bulgarians are cheaper, don’t you know?

It’s prefaced in your mind with imagery of a horse drawn-carriage and Lada cars in Sofia – but surely that’s pushing it, the bounds of sick fantasy.

Still, the girls are here, regardless of you.

The poor girls, how poor, pushed into this situ,

on show, on offer, to the highest bidder,

room full of trash, exploitative scum.


these girls,

I’m surprised they’ve been allowed the luxury of underpants.

But, I suppose,

sad to say,

to these pimps,

one cunt is much the same as another.