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Downtown Venus (A Prostitute's Tale)

I walk the alleys an ostracized downtown Venus
At the junction of heaven and hell at the omnipresent penis
I reminisce my initiation a teenager barely legal
My kind has lasted even before times of medieval even regal

My godfather shelters me the Vodka-soaked pimp
To cater the many who wander in for an awakening from the limp
My stories are many that come in all hues and skins
Even the royalty embrace me not just the pauper also the prince

Sometimes it's a tale of punch drunk love
Sometimes it's the story of a munched junk shove
Some come for a break from their excruciating boredom
Some come armed with a stash and an omnipresent condom

Night turns to day……take it away PM Dawn
As I get my beauty sleep from the constant mucus moan
Morning comes as the early birds stand in line
For me to rock their worlds an experience diabolically sublime

I come in a variety of costume-certified professions
My ears are in tune to the ghettos' whore house confessions
I am the liberator of the temple's brewing guilt
The walls are my witness and even the semen soaked quilt

Occasionally comes the odd ball request
The conscious-driven loner's platonic conquest
Dinner, coffee even a late night walk
Just conversation baby a heart-to-heart talk

There's even the story of my sister in Vegas one Elizabeth Shue
Just a drifter who walked in to her destiny in another man's blue
A writer to save from his one way ticket to hell
A rocky road, a canister but a unique love story to tell

I am no housewife but I have my moments as a crash test dummy
When the domineering fist crashes in to my existing mummy
I live in the twilight between the ghosts and the dead
Where is my prince who will wake me from my respiring death bed

I fervently listen to the echoes of the elected's impotent promises
To bring in an union to address our livelihoods devoid of compromises
Then everything sinks in like a thunder shattering the oak
The vocals were just hollow words a politico's joke

Then comes the blessings of the black collar worker
Handouts in superabundance so are the shacks of shelter
The urge builds as a new baptism is that I seek
Will I survive in God's chambers when my conscious is so meek

The days follow and its time for life's new lease
Slowly up the alleys as momentum gathers in the form of a calming peace
Maybe I am an incarnation of Mary at the stone quarry
Now my heart feels lighter levitating from the nagging worry

I enter through the door and I see the familiar savior's face
Among the mantillas in their intricate embroidery of lace
I kneel down to the destiny that emphatically awaits me
The beginning of my life in the chambers of the eternally free

poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
Added by Poetry Lover
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