The Trollop is a loneliness poem, reflecting on prostitution, loneliness, broken marriage, poverty, and recovery.

The Trollop

 Twice a week
he'd pull up at the footpath
invite her to get in
each time the same girl

his stale marriage
made him do it
her body
kept him ticking over.

Every day
she'd pace the footpath
got into any car
the trollop she was

her acid ex-marriage
had lunged her
into a sewer of bestial debt-collectors
no skills, only her body to sell.

Every time
he'd disappear inside and weep
she'd gather fragments,
his and hers.

I'll see you in a couple of days, right?
he'd ask, 
you will,
she'd reply, clenching the worn notes she'd lodge at the end of

every week,
for years 
non-contractual commitment
cash for cold comfort

and slow conversations
unveiling exits
solutions
salvations.

Never would
they meet to 
reminisce
over a drink

across the road
from where
she had
first got into his car.

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