Does that make sense to you?
It makes perfect sense to me. My
Career would already be set. I’d
Have Customers wherever I went.
Allow myself the fantasy – but what
About the illegal findings?
And the men forging a rift between
Themselves and their Wives.
How would I drum up Clients
In the first place? Not in a market
Aisle, in the mid-day. And certainly
Not on the street corner Wearing
But then, How would it come up, come
about in a conversation?
Hi. I’m flirting heavily With you, Allow
me to wink and tell you a thousand.
A Thousand Dollars. Wink, Wink.
The most ridiculous think, I’ve thought today.
But what’s the best part about working –
Well, not WORKING, I wouldn’t want
To be WORKING as a prostitute. Only if it
was an attitude of added leisure, instead of
a Moneymaker for paying the kettle bills.
The Best part – no commitment. No man left
unpunished. And no little me bereft
With agony of abandonment. The Best part?
Maybe I’m not monogamous. Maybe I’m
Actually GOOD AT THIS! Does that frighten me?
A little bit. Men love to talk with me, and no, it’s
Not because of my cute face, and my lovely, curvy,
albeit some would say “thick”, beautiful body.
It’s because I can listen. It makes my life easier to
Listen to other people talk about themselves,
Or whatever else it is they wish to speak about.
It makes them feel better, and therefore,
By alliance, provides me with relief, above and
On top of the lightened pleasure of being
In one man’s line of sight for a few minutes.
Eyes, Eyes, Give me Eyes.
Fuck me on the side, too. You know how I like it.
Slap my face and make me squeal.