Death House Press

Seldom

                                              

by

​

Aurora Matahari Raiment 

​

&

​

G. Bennett Ulrich          

​
 

She was no ordinary Philly whore,

She was no ordinary Philly whore,

But the night air kept her chilly,

I'd not seen her like before,

And her dark thoughts were seeping up from the pavement to stain her once red stockings,

Faint of heart and what is more,

She bit her lip and fought back the infectious laughter that could only lead to tears,

She felt cursed by life--a draining chore.
  

This was the place, a pier to jump off and splash  around in fear,

Unlike the average Philly Madam,

Lipstick stained this little girl...

She seemed depressed--no Up and At 'Em,

...string of jelly beans around her neck like pearls...a spiral of denial, a list of broken boys she chewed on for a while...

Her Johns forgot her while she had 'em,

The green ones always taste like lime and leave a bad taste...in the back of your throat...

In the bed of an unlikely Madam. 
 

Princess Pout, have you got a light?

She was too strange, too weird, too odd,

Have you got a dollar?

She had old thoughts on Art and God,

Have you got the time?  Have you got...

She'd spare the child and spoil the rod,

She was no ordinary girl, she was a fizz-top passion player, she had spunk she had fire,

Her brains would slosh and head would nod. 
  

Yes, she still feared god.

She was no ordinary Philly whore,

Have you got a dollar?  Have you got your collar?

She was my Lover nothing more. 
  
 

Reprinted with permission by authors* 
 

[* Note about the Authors:  This was the first poem the authors wrote together.  It began with a line supplied by Raiment after which they both went off and wrote separate verses only to come back and share them.  The number of lines had never been decided, but they turned out to be exactly the same nonetheless. --Editor]