The Hooker Writes Her Memoirs (Poetry)

I’ve lived among the limbs of men
I’ve tasted of their flesh
and dreamed it might be heaven if
their voices told me less

But they speak only words of war
not love nor tenderness
their after-talk’s enough to send
me reaching for my dress

I wish they’d fuck more than they talk
and give the world a break
old poets come and then they die
alone for pity’s sake

I’ll make my home in hollow bones
yet still I’ll hear them pant
and inbetween their macho sounds
repeat as clear as cant

They are not fooling anyone
dumb beasts for all to see
not half as cute as those with fur
they kill relentlessly

I’m not a feminist by trade
nor lesbian so far
and yet I’m slowly turning off
to all the things men are

I’ve had my fill if you’ll forgive
a kind of tasteless pun
so zip it up — the mouth at least
I wish I’d been a nun