An Assumed Name
i never used my real name doing sex work, it wasn’t difficult becoming him, a withdrawal from reality and sleep among the tricks and the travelers who are your fathers and your brothers and your husbands and your sons, your friends and the people you work with and the people you know and the people you do not know and never will/ most of my tricks were cops/ i had this theory/ it was about a loss of control, having had to be in total control, when they came to me, they could lose it, i protected them, i was imbued with the power to decide what went on in any scene/ these were all scenes, everything was a romance with some fetish or another, some with theatrical backdrops, stages, film sets, lights, cameras, whips, and a lot of action/ cops had a thing for playing with the edges, they liked it a little rough, and a little dangerous/ allow me to tell you who was the most dangerous of the dangerous/ bounty hunters, bounty hunters were extremely dangerous, and all any of them ever wanted was to just be touched, not even sexually, they simply craved the human contact, and with great sighs, they would slowly fall into your arms/ as if from some great height, they could focus on the hills in the distance, and the bounty hunters themselves would crumble as they descended, exhaling deeply and with gravitas, the black holes that followed them around would grab them and eat them up/ next week they would call you again, and again, and again, and again/ chasing criminals like myself where every step was dead center twisting in the wind/ i never worked the street so it was a little different for me, the street is mainly sucking cock and sucking cock bores me half to death, it’s so ordinary/ men came to me seeking to be punished/ and i had no difficulty whatsoever punishing them, your fathers and your brothers and your lovers and your sons, i hated tricks anyway, and i would make them suffer through the pallid air, drifting on a fog of time, the long distances are gone tonight, oblivion was your second birth of selves, tied up and undone, your tongues of secrets spilling blood, drenching armies of the aristocracy burning stones below/