Tag Archives: sex work

The World’s Oldest Profession Just Won’t Go Away

The All Party Parliamentary Group on Prostitution has recommended that paying for sex be criminalised (they argue that it is paying customers, mainly men, who are driving human trafficking and express concern regarding so-called “pop-up brothels”, where a property is rented for a short period then abandoned by the traffickers allowing them to stay one step ahead of the law.

This piece, by the Press association, https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2018/may/21/sexual-exploitation-uk-women-pop-up-brothels-report) reminds me of my poem “Circles” in which I ponder upon this highly contentious subject, https://newauthoronline.com/2016/07/15/circles/.

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Shoppers

I pass the lights
And think on the delights
Inside
Where shoppers hide
From the cold outside
Where people hurry by
And do not catch another’s eye.

What man will glorify the ethereal
When there is a material
Girl with perfect skin
Who beckons him in
To her store?

Those who are discreet
Do not ask for a receipt.
They know the power
Of the shower
And how scent lingers
On fingers.
But one can not forever hide
From the cold outside

A man of the world addresses a young woman of easy virtue

“A service like any other,
But don’t tell your mother
As she
Is not like you and me.
We see
The truth plain
(which many distain)
That for the right price
He Can frequently have the She
Of his choosing
And vice
Is a call
Or click away.
How easy ‘tis to fall
Off a log, and oft we lack
The will to climb back”.

An Ordinary Girl

The paper is peeling
And the ceiling
Is dirty grey.
“How long will you stay?”
He asks. “What will you pay?”
I say.
Shall I be nice
And offer him a lower price?

Its so easy to pretend
To be “a friend”
When you’ve done this for a while.
You smile
And lose yourself in drink
Or think
Of Coins
And gird your loins.

Having wrangled
I lie
Entangled
In the sheet.
“You are sweet”
I say,
Thinking of my pay.

Me in jeans
On the bus, with my university books.
No one looks
At an ordinary girl,
Her head in a whirl
Over forthcoming exams,
And last night’s scenes.

K Morris reading his poem ‘Circles’.

The debate surrounding sex work/prostitution appears to go around in circles, with one side blaming the sex bias, and saying that they should be fined or imprisoned, while the other argues that the state/society has no business interfering in what occurs between consenting adults. Often, it seems that neither side is listening to the other, while client and sex worker continue in their age-old roles.

 

Mannequin

As a mannequin in a shop window, at which people stare,
She stands in the glare
Of the bedroom light.
Once, such things did excite.
Now all is null
Or on occasions, he
Takes a dull,
Almost professional interest in yet another she.

Gazing at the girl, in her birthday suit
He thinks on the route
Cause of his obsession with mannequins.
Loneliness or sins?
Where begins
A man’s cursed traverse
Of the path to the ever lasting bonfire
Where desire
Ends in mechanical sport
With a mannequin bought
Out of boredom.
He knows there is no true joy in hoardom
For him or her.
Still, in despair
He takes a half-hearted pleasure there.