Pigalle IV - 0094 - Current Version

By cell phone, near a neon light,
or corner strip club's sleazy door,
gad the sad glow-worms of the night.
Do not ask them why or wherefore
forlorn, they set their sorry sight
with weary chatter, wary spite.

On call for all, in somewhat light
apparel to attract the more
each paints faint mirage of delight
ephemeral which most deplore.
In house or out, they story write
which makes dark reading few recite.

Unenvied, mo[]) rning, twilight,
lit cigarettes, hearts, ankles sore,
strutting the street to left and right.
Do not ask them who they care for,
with rights in pawn through diverse plight,
wasted, worn, self-tortured quite.

Exploited, often blameless blight,
b[l]eached far from the social shore.
unless you [b]reach insight,
do not ask them what they're there for
as mens' manipulations might
be highlighted: bed, board and bite!

‘Tis men who would themselves excite
perverting innocence to store
for gain, for power to incite
or compensate libido poor,
who blackmail, tight rein run through fright,
yet no-one here is lily white.

(20 August 2004)

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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