Like Whores

I work until I’m blistered
Like stockings on Christmas eve
My esophagus is filled to the brim
With toys and a curiosity
That reminds customers
Of a child

My sentences are no longer coherent
What good is my voice
If I can keep that cock standing
Under the tip of my tongue

But I never have problems
Putting plump fingers
Where they don’t belong
In the body’s
Dark alleyway

Yank up the skirt
Be proud of this boiled bitch
Hopping
On the senator’s
Pogo stick

I know how honorable
anal plugs
and swallowing
a stranger’s
steam
can
be.

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