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Gentleman Caller

As the gas lit streets of London
brood under a veil of fog,
the ladies of the evening
huddle beneath their shawls.
 
The cobbled streets no longer
as safe as they were before
and safe is always a relative term,
when you're a Whitechapel whore.
 
Nichols, Chapman, Stride and Eddowes
cut down in their prime,
violated, mutilated, poured out onto the street
innocent victims of a demon-addled swine
 
In Miller’s Court, safe from harm
in her own room, kept cosy and warm,
Mary Kelly looks out into the night and shivers.
She adjusts her shawl and waits.
 
And when later that night
they find her ruined body,
Mary will move into history
because she gave her heart
to a gentleman caller.

◄ The Nomad

Stunted ►

Comments

Rachel Bond

Wed 30th Jun 2010 11:52

i live on chapman st which i thought similar to the names of murderer harold shipman and the the name of mark chapman the fool who shot john lennon(GRHS)...now the name of a mutilated victorian prostitute...its all so grim i love it. yet it is really a very nice little street. The neighbour informed me however that one of us residents was held up at gunpoint for their shopping and another tried to cut off his own head! :) i believe non of it but not a bad welcome eh?

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