Remember kids:
Scantily clad prostitution intuitively capitalist.

She thinks slowly,
already pulling down her
already wet panties
already clinging to her ankles.

In this Victorian room
life mingles with violent apparitions.
An actress giving him evidence
of what he wants:
Her stock,
which the gentlemen always appreciates.

“Oh god! Oh god
Yes! YES!!”

i wonder if the sex was good?

“Father Love Fuck”

a blizzard among yellow leaves

“I’m a whore!”

dead hollow tree . . .

“Afterwards I’ll need a vibrator

I’m a bitch-whore!”

SCREAMING, screaming

father . . .”
i would feel better if you hated me.

I feeling wooden,
have termites eating away at my soul.
I pray for the blood of me to fall out,
Flooding this thing
I inspire,
things I might desire.
to suppress this feeling.
to drench myself.

“call girl, glorified whore!”

she cries alone.
_____________Empty inside,
except for her finger
_____________Empty inside,
except her lover’s tongue
_____________Empty inside,
except for a paying customer’s dick.

In the religious right,
she wondered why she was wrong

And she’d hope to keep this face
of morality,
immortality all night long.

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