Penthouse Pet

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“I borrowed a very short micro mini, fishnets, heels and applied my makeup.” JD Butler

I was sweet 16 when I worked for a subsidiary of Penthouse Magazine called ‘Books & Thing’s, as a topless waitress in Queensland. It was 1984 or 85. At the time I had no job or place to live and was not allowed to obtain a benefit for at least six months, so I guess it was dire straits for me then, alone and in this beautiful country of Australia.

Up until then, I had been hitchhiking my way around Australia relying on the goodwill of other’s. All my worldly possessions were crammed into four plastic shopping bags, until a thoughtful truckdriver decided to buy me two black Lotto bags. It was a bloody Godsend I can tell you! My transient life became a lot more manageable, and I had a place to keep my red photo album, the only possession I’d bought over from New Zealand, apart from shoes and clothes.

I had initially enquired about becoming an escort, after reading an advertisement in the local Brisbane rag. I remember the receptionist laughing so hard, after she asked me if I knew what an escort was! It was funny in hindsight. I declined to come in for the interview once I knew what the job description entailed, not that there is anything wrong with working in the sex industry, as I would later learn. Like I said, I was 16 then and somewhat naive.

It did however, sow a seed and because I was relying on the kindness of others, I had been feeling a bit guilty freeloading. I wanted to pay my way and I needed to find a job ASAP. One of the truckerdrivers I hitchhiked with had a partner, a short blonde haired woman. She had recently taken me to a youth shelter in Ipswitch, so I finally had a bed and a roof over my head. All I needed was a job. 

I rocked up for my first job interview in Brisbane, in a white cotton jumpsuit and white heels. It was a little bit too small as I recall, my body was developing quite fast back then, and nothing fit well. I was also a late bloomer by comparison to other family members, I got my first period when I was 14 going on 15. 

I filled in a form in a small grey office, with a window and a middle aged man sitting behind a desk. The walls were festooned with poster’s of beautiful women, advertising various things from local events to theatre. He began by asking me the usual questions. How old was I? How long had I been in Australia? Why did I want the job? Followed by, had I worked in the industry before and was I comfortable showing my tits? 

I did feel comfortable and I was also in a much needed job interview, so I was smiling and super friendly, trying to put my best foot forward – well my breasts actually. He asked me politely, to lower my jumpsuit so he could see. I did, and he took a photo for his records. He said I had the job and that someone would be in contact with me about work. 

I don’t think I had to wait very long as I got a call at the shelter and someone came and to pick me up from there. He was a very attractive man in his late twenties, from memory. He was to be my minder. He introduced me to some older women in their late teens, early twenties, and they pretty much took me under their wing. I borrowed a very shirt micro mini, fishnets, heels and applied my makeup.

I won a Best Breast competition in a club somewhere on the Gold Coast. All I had to do was serve drinks, topless for a couple of hours and I’d make $100. Too easy! As it happened, I’d been shouted my first tattoo and Little Mick Cosenko put a beautiful bird of paradise on my left breast in Fortitude Valley, and I wanted to show it off.

Later, Mr Minder asked me if I would move out of the shelter and in to his house, no strings attached. I thought about it, but decided something didn’t feel quite right and I trusted my gut. 


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Visible Woman

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I’m a whore.
A hooker for all
Intents & purposes

I fuck

Men, women or both
If they show me
Respect & pay my fee

How they treat
Me is how I screen;
They peep through key
Holes in my web,
Mobile phone or face
Book

Leave me clues
I peruse at my leisure.

On my unpaid time,
Weeding
Always pulling
Out roots & bare
Back, barking mad
Messages

Cutting into my family!

My family time
Intrigues you & yours –

Watching how we
Balance on that edge,
While I swing my leg
Over, hold on
Tight & tiptoe
Around the giant
Dildo in the room

But we do

Those Bill’s
Just don’t stop coming!

*

I work hard for the money
I work hard for family
I work hard
Pulling my weight where it counts
To make ends meet;
Reconciling differences
Underneath

I bleed red & my shit still
Stinks but that doesn’t make me
Invisible, unless you’re
Anti

Anti this, anti that
Why should it matter
What I do to support my
Self or my family?

I should ram my fist right up
Your arse, to my elbow
(I’d like to – bend you over) &
Piss all over your pride & prejudice!

Your mind is already made up.
Stuck up, to the eyeballs
In condescending lies pandering
To (un) popular beliefs;
Nothing like countering ‘prostitution
Narratives’ in the belly
Of the beast

I am a very tall poppy.
I am not so uneloquently on display
I am not a victim
I am not coerced
I am not a survivor
I am not damaged
I am not suffering any
More than anyone else

I don’t buy into
Negative, stereotypically ignorant
Profit driven victimisation
Either!

I choose to be the
Architect of my own life
Doing my bit,
Arousing your awareness
So that those who are
Tarred with the same brush
Can find support
Not rescue

It’s called autonomy.
Something I have more of than
Some, but you are not one

Tomorrow I’m going to wake up
Turn on my phone
Answer messages
Boil the jug & light up a dart,
Considering all my options
Before heading back in to sex work

It makes me stark raving
Mad, to think you could
Possibly be offended!

*

For what it’s worth,
I feel sorry for you

 

© Copyright 2016, Jodine Derena Butler. ‘Poetry Out West’, All Rights Reserved

Paragon

Written in protest of the ‘World’s Oldest Oppression’ Conference in Melbourne, Victoria 2016

The Online Protest

Pieces of Meat

Sound of Silencing Sex Workers

Online Pocket Guide to Dealing with Antis

There is Nothing Special about Mary

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Photographer: Judith Bender-Jura

1.

Mary, the one without
a Halo – a married whore,
found unconditional love
hiding in the soles of His feet.

After the fact – that
pseudo relationships
took precedence for a while,
she washed Him clean

for no other reason
than to show respect, reverence
for one that would give
His soul for her.

2.

My feet are bare, scarred
by broken beer bottles and red
blood paint – tips to toes,
manicured to perfection once

upon a time. his feet
are cold; numbness held in a vice –
like grip, as she works her way up
past calves & quads seeking

warmth in the apex, comfort
sucking a thumb – print. embedded
ecstasy applying pressure
where it hurts, to ease the pain.

3.

She thinks the sun shines out –
back, cradling his head, healing hands
mindful of circular breathing; muscles
& tendons ache for release.

Mary doesn’t mind manipulating
bones, fingering the spaces
in – between, redirecting blood flow
to all the right places, kneading

stretches & burns ping – back,
sending signals like sparks, endorphins
take up the slack, ushering in sweet
sensation & nipples peek. there’s

nothing special about Mary, knowing
a thing or two, making money serving
more than a hand – full of life’s little pleasures. making hay while the sun

shines requires little effort on her part,
preferring to let it slide, up past
the point of no return. those days,
over now before they really took hold.

4.

Mary looks at him spent, kinesthetic
energy on standby as he reconsiders
where he stands. the party’s over,
someone has to clean up, Mary

learning to love the hand
that feeds her, wishing sometimes
for independence and silence, in –
between phone calls. those days

are over, up for tender for the next
wave of youthful antagonists who seek
an existence un – beholden. love
knows no rules of engagement.

© Copyright 2016, Jodine Derena Butler & ‘Poetry Out West’.  All Rights Reserved

Impression

My Favourite Whore

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Artist Unknown

I want
the brutal facts,

negotiating
a purchase or two. slip –
ping up. two stairs
and the pain is
off the chartered
Rhicter scale.
sliding – skating
on your arse. in
dire need
of emergency. horrors
to come. no
good news is
bad news. stuffed up
plans. rendezvous’
post – poned before
you can even
walk the walk.
talking crutches
and neck
braces. on
your back shock
absorbing
shit. painfully
anticipating anecdotal
conundrums. the bite
of teeth
and Lilies. more
than you
can chew. I can
buggaring up
stowed away.
from warmth
and inner
thighs. doctors
and nurses
precisely un –
lucky. nearly losing
the plot as it
thickens. muscles flex
into verbal canes. an ex –
pected debacle of
ruined tension.
de – faulting
into chaos. she didn’t
want or need. your
birthday or
Christmas. travel
in one
breath. denied
children understand
sorry. the world
is still there
for you. home
with your first mate
and friends.
another mate
for life. love is
giving us what
we need
to heal. pretty
but it could be
much worse
for you
and her. your nut
shell cracked.
take all the time
you need.

your favorite whore
x

© Copyright 2015, Jodine Derena Butler & ‘Poetry Out West’.  All Rights Reserved.

Interstellar Medium

Orion Constellation

1.
Orion takes my breath away!

His belt & scabbard first
then shoulders
& I wrap myself around him
I am at peace
looking out over the ocean
& a sky full of stars

You are not unlike Orion
guiding distant ships on the horizon
I am like Klingon
(Klingon usually mate for life)
but not this tide
we are an interstellar medium:
the space between
Euryale & Poseidon

2.
We are of the Sea

reef, rocks & shoals
perilous waters
where foghorns & Siren songs sound familiar
where fishy tales flush pink
& my Veuve overflows

It doesn’t take me long to remember
expectation is one two threefold
we navigate in the dark sometimes
moonlit mirrors reflect only one part of the whole
our universe is bigger than most

3.
I draw a line in the sand

for both our sakes
there can be only one
I feel the waves crash on the shore
we are all arms & legs
slipping & sliding
in & out of the water

I look to the stars & my faith
for one brief moment there is no existential crisis
Orion’s heavy breathing & sigh of relief
bring us both back to reality
under the surface
Death is not an unknown entity:
one last roll of the di
& our fate could be sealed

4.
Thank you

Orion will always be near
Jupiter will always be the brightest planet
the full moon will always shine on me
I could never go past King Island
without thinking of you
candlelight, frogs & our best mate
Captain’s call still falling on deaf ears

but nevermind
I’m still as blind as a bat
& you’re as old as the hills

© Copyright 2015, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

REBLOGGED on Ink & Quill

The Mariners Tale

Home7

“Land Ahoy!”

his First Mate
not more than two feet away, still doesn’t see Hinemoana coming.

“Bring her about hard & fast
& shut your bloody mouth boy!”
after the full force
hits the stern with a swift kick
aimed right up the Jacksie!

she giggles

it’s an entertaining Port
full of surprises, guffaws
& sudden gusts of wind;
her Devil’s Tongue
quick as lightning
her Siren Song
slipping in & under

he lays it on thick

he would feed me grapes
if it weren’t for the Oyster’s
Swordfish, Tuna, Salmon & Lumpfish, a good bottle of Veuve serving up a concoction of frivolity with a sharp spank on the arse for good measure.

No sea legs required here.

Our naked flamboyance
barely creates a ripple,
our island paradise
looking out over the sea
from a safe distance –
your bridge.

I can see the stars up there
& planets
my world seems bigger
brighter
I stare transfixed into space
but I am not lost
I feel strangely nestled

Green Tree Frogs
& the hope of a Vine snake or two
keep my curiosity peaked

Michael rows
his boat ashore

I am not unlike an island

© Copyright 2013, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

REBLOGGED on Dream Big Dream Often

Fringe Factor

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I am on the fringe
my destiny intertwined
money & lust
existence
paving a way for my future

I am loved
unconditionally.

he doesn’t presume
to try to control me
directly
indirectly I don’t know –
sometimes I feel bereft;
a single cell amoeba
searching
for another sign
of life

solitude
my friend & my enemy
co-exist;
uncertainty
at every new juncture
jeers in contempt
I am frozen in fear
for falling
& failing
humiliation burning
into my face
to spite me

ungracious
in pursuit of happiness
I take no prisoners
perhaps my journey
is my destination?
isolation & separation
inextricably linked,
pseudo relationships
taking precedence

lonely street’s
with or without corners
smoothing my transition

in the distance,
no picket fence to define me
or winter garden
or fire escape

I digress, sadly.
inner sanctum’s
flawed by design
serve only to mimic my life

contentment
knows no bounds

© Copyright 2012, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

Two-tailed Tawse

Your wish is my command:

I will grip
my two-tailed tawse
within an inch of my gloved appendage

& your exposed up-turned posterior

& I will
control
/
suspend
\
switch
/
strap
\
bitch
/
slap
\
you into submission
& you will obey

my iron clad mind
will thrash you within
your wildest dreams whetting
only my appetite for your pleasure

& pain

those looks will not go unpunished
you want me to break down your defences?
I will break down your defences

you will not look me in the eyes
you will not touch any part of me
you will not soil in my presence

you will obey my every command

& you will cry like a baby
& beg for my forgiveness when you fail

© Copyright 2010 Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

I Can’t Wait

I can’t wait

to get you
where I want
you to be:
on your back
with your hands
tied & your
legs spread
eagle,
blindfolded
so I can look
at you with
reckless
abandon
& you can’t
do a damn thing
about it

I will take
what is mine

& have my way
& fuck you
till I am
spent
& you are
left wondering
what day
of the week it is
& whether or not
the wet patch
is on your side
of the bed
or mine

© Copyright 2010 Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

Rhiannan

Concrete emotions honed
un-toned body making sounds
of pleasure, lost at sea
drowning yet serene

Work, a means to an end
not my un-doing, I choose
this life, chosen now and not before
forceful reminder’s
solidified

*

I know this place, familiar
un-tamed yet calm, numb
yet seductive

© Copyright 2007 Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

Boudoir

A green duvet and me
blue
Eeyore pyjamas missing a button

a gaping hole my solar plexus

books scattered
carpeted
the bed and the floor
three phones waiting
a clock ticking
a red candelabra
standing tall
white scented candles
mirrors and paintings

reflected image incomplete

a red slip
pillows
a thick winter coat, disembodied
folded towels
soft toys and clothes, strewn

careless

tissues not too far away
the bedside table ready
slatted curtains not really curtains at all
shafts of light
penetrating
my wheat-bag purple and warm

comforting

Klimts Women is wide open
to ‘The Kiss’
at the foot of my bed

© Copyright 2007 Jodine Derena Butler. All Rights Reserved

Lady of the Night 

Your wish is my command
I will push back and pull forward
confronting your senses while tearing apart my own
I perform admirably
I hold my head up in the face
there’s only one thing on my mind,
no monthly specials here
no flat ‘on my back’ rate either!
I’m a bargain in the first place, comparatively
they should be so lucky
no chance of getting bored,
I re-invent events
creatively juicy and spicy hot with a side of lies
the blood never drains nor loses its metallic colour
and the well will never dry with KY,
spread from arsehole to breakfast like _______
Class?
I got class, my website deems it so

“It would be my absolute pleasure to welcome you into my
wonderful world, filled with all things naughty and nice.”

oh make me over, please!
I lie
on my back, my side, my stomach… and my face is covered
69 divine and women line up!
I’m not exclusive… smile ; )
sad and lonely is universally applied, like my eyeliner
smudged and blurred
obscured from most
I provide a service, the hostess with the most(est)
and fine wine will have you spellbound!
they line up
I spread em’

in a downtown apartment with a sea view
on Fur-Lined avenue – not!
my un-inhibited wide-on, exhibited
and the 26th floor, awaits you but
I am not for free
never for free
I am a Lady of the Night
who shines in the face of adversity
with trust issues and insecurities like the rest of us
I am not blinded by earthly needs by fools
I wake up,
I put on my make-up
I dance to my own tune
and pay the bills

© 2007 Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

Exerpt reprinted on Quilt, Melbourne Festival of Sex Workers, 2012

I Met a Girl 

I met a girl
Red lights blazing
flashing backstreet bars
in an alleyway
shadows silent behind
lamppost’s, thin stripped
light bouncing off
her shoulders, Medusa
scantily clad
dancing through her
fractured Halo,
stockings hiked up
high, lest the cold
penetrate, short skirt
on latticed silhouette(s)
tiptoes pointing
slipping in behind
taxis.  Threadbare
pockets strain
fingertips smooth into
green folds;
a handful of jewels
lining her silk purse.


© 2009 Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

First Published in Side Stream ‘Poetry From The Fringe’, Issue 19, 2009

http://www.myspace.com/sidestreampoetry

Dogs At My Door (Redlight Series)

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Lovers of pain and comfort, unconditional
with puppy dog eyes wide shut
Head on my stomach fur coat attired
foetal and like old things, worn
Moments and memories dispensed
a hairs breath between prickles
and whiskers tease
rubbing the shredded skin of dissociation
Thoughts escape, awakened
stirred and panting
Playful ball sports and eyebrows raise
sniffing familiarity
Belly rubs and legs splayed
assuming the mould from in behind, the scene
anticipation hungry for food
Dependence in exchange for love
money in exchange for lust
No flea’s here, no blood,
no life-sucking thoughts here
Gods comfort wrap fur-lined with licky tongue
slobbering kisses of conversation
Done and dusted.

© 2007 Jodine Derena Butler. All Rights Reserved
First Published in Side Stream, Issue 7, August 2007, “Poetry From The Fringe”
http://www.myspace.com/sidestreampoetry