Salome: Canto Four

The prostitute of Thailand sells herself since she'd prefer
An urban lifestyle with all the amenities
That modern life affords
To slaving on a farm in poverty.  Sex is for her
A steady source of income: all that Baht she sees
She so greedily hoards.

She'll do this even though there looms the danger of disease,
Or men who like to beat the girls, or who degrade
Them with extreme demands.
She hopes to meet a Western man whose wealth will give her ease,
And then she'll marry him; for soon her looks will fade,
Since age cruelly commands

Us all to come to him.  Now, Siamese Salome walks
The streets of Bangkok not to get a new TV,
A smartphone or lap-top;
Nor would she marry money--she lasciviously talks
To men to lure them from their wives or girlfriends.  She
Would make fidelity drop,

Along with her clothes, to the ground.  Then she'd give him a germ
That he could never hide from his beloved mate,
Who'd leave him--their love, dead.
This is because Salome hates relationships all firm
In love's commitment.  She would rather curse a man's fate
And make him lose his head.

Salome's evil spirit entered a Thai prostitute
Who worked in a dark whorehouse in downtown Bangkok
One night ten years ago.
She saw a shy young man come in: his eagerness did suit
The lechery of Herod's spirit.  She would walk
With him--this she did know.

Although the other harlots tried their best to whet his lust,
Only Salome knew the way that never fails:
Undressing publicly.
Withjoie de vivre, she dropped her G-string and released her bust
From its brassiere, shaking her silicone breasts.  All males
Would look, predictably.

It wasn't just her flawless form that mesmerized the youth:
Her surgically sculpted bust, her well-trimmed crotch,
And callipygian back;
It was how she so joyfully displayed nudity's truth--
She smiled as she disrobed, inviting men to watch.
She thrilled to be their snack.

Since one part of him pointed the same way as did his eyes,
He waved to her to come to him.  She knew he would,
And went to him straight away.
She had only her high-heels on, letting men scrutinize
And know her coffee-coloured skin.  This way she could
Entice more men to play.

Since at the back of that whorehouse there were some private rooms
In which the men could bed the girls and satisfy
Their most unbridled urges,
Salome took this eager youth there.  One never presumes
The men have pangs of conscience and that they would try
To shrink their so hot surges

Of bestial lust, remembering that they have wives at home,
Or girlfriends who don't know the men they idolize
Are buying sex from whores.
This young man had such thoughts, though his temptations made him roam
From John the Baptist's sanctuary, and the eyes
Of the girl that he adores.

They waited by one of the rooms as a woman cleaned it up.
As they stood there, the other men were ogling his
Most edible brown treat.
This didn't bother her.  In fact, se gladly let them sup
On her with their eyes, for she knew that to look is
To want her flesh to eat;

And having her would be like drinking poison.  So she smiled
A Gioconda kind of smirk: a mystery
To those who dare not know
The dark, Satanic secrets of this whore, who'd drive men wild,
Changing Saint John the Baptist into Herod--he
Who thoughtlessly sinks low

And only rues his lewdness when it's too late to reverse
His beastly groping.  This, Salome's brash ambition,
Is rarely ever thwarted.
She uses sexuality and pleasure as a curse
On thinking men, because she knows it is her mission
To make men's thoughts distorted.

She hates all people who seek knowledge, who wish to be wise,
And who prefer love to salacious licking.  She
Would turn them upside-down,
As her bent-over, warped morality is.  She, in disguise--
A cunningly unclothed voluptuous Circe--
Has a smile to make men frown.

At last, the room was ready, and the whore took him inside.
She had indulged his hands to travel up and down
Her dales and rolling hills
While they were outside waiting, for she had no wish to hide
Her pleasing places from him.  Now she knew she'd drown
Him in a flood of thrills.

Before the cleaning lady left, she asked him for a tip.
He offered her a lot more money if she'd stay
And clean his dirty places.
She giggled with surprise at how this man wanted to slip
Out of his clothes in front of her.  One didn't pay
Her to have well-known spaces.

Her greed, nevertheless, would overcome her modesty;
And soon he was as naked as Salome was,
Though he did hesitate
A little to remove a bracelet that symbolically
Stood for his sweetheart's love.  A tempted boyfriend does
This when it's not too late

Yetto get dressed again and leave a brothel.  Still, his lust
Would overcome fidelity, and his girl's gift
Was dropped upon his jeans,
With all his other clothing, on the floor.  He thought, "I must
Release my passions--exorcise them; then I'll drift
Back to more faithful scenes

With my sweet girl."  Although the cleaning woman washed him on
The outside, on the inside his filth grew and grew
As he enjoyed her touch.
When she was finished cleaning him, before she would be gone,
He'd have her wash Salome's body: this he'd view,
Licking his lips very much.

Both women grinned as every crevice of Salome's tanned
And sultry body was washed clean.  The cleaning lady
Was glad to get his cash,
And yet, who knew if her lewd passions, too, were being fanned?
It's common to be so inclined toward what is shady
And sexually brash

In such a place as this.  She'd cleaned him just as eagerly.
He knew, and it inflamed his passions all the more.
The cleaner left the room
With quite a wad of Baht, and now Salome's nudity
Was all his for the tasting.  He got on the whore;
Desire did him consume.

Siam can be a Sodom for those who are so inclined.
This Herod knew Salome's flesh in all those ways:
He entered at the top,
Explored her down below, and analyzed her from behind.
Most willingly, she would allow these wild forays,
For she would have him stop

Having affection for his girl, and trade true love for sex.
When they were finished, she offered to go with him
Back to his hotel room.
The young man fought against his lust, resisted Salome's hex,
And said, "The chances of me going with you are slim;
I would rather resume

My love for my sweet girl."  St. John rose up in him again.
Salome knew anticipating later lust
Was how she'd keep him hers.
"Very well.  For now, let's go back to the bar for drinks, and then,
If you want, we'll go to your room for many a thrust,"
She said, with many purrs.

He agreed, and put his clothes back on, but put his bracelet in
His pocket; while Salome chose to remain nude.
They went back to the front
Of the whorehouse, where the others were: whores tempting men to sin,
All drinking at the bar.  Salome, feeling lewd,
Wanted men's eyes to hunt

All over her tanned, naked body.  She would have them know
Her every curve, as she would have young Herod see
What first flamed his desire.
For now the satyr in the boy was spent, flaccidly low.
She had to wait to get a rise from him, then she,
Nude, would relight his fire.

They found a table, he sat down, and she sat on his lap.
She'd wait for a poking sensation from below,
And then she'd fan his flame.
Meanwhile, through conversation she'd make him fall in her trap.
She'd make the boy forget about his sweet girl, so
He'd be lulled into shame.

"I really should go home," he said.  "I feel guilty about
What I just did."  "It doesn't matter," she then said.
"You don't need your sweetheart."
"You don't know love, then," he said.  She said, "If you have no doubt
That you love her, why did you come with me to bed?
These words gave him a start.

"I only wished to satisfy my urges with your skin,"
He said.  "Men often do this, 'sowing their wild oats',
Then they will settle down,
And have a family, forgetting every prior sin."
"You know the truth," Salome said.  "You men are goats.
You want to know my brown,

"Sweet, pretty flesh.  You've known my vulva, my anus, and my mouth;
And you would know them all again, if you were true
To your most timid self.
The truth is not in your head, up north; it's down in the south,
Where lies true happiness, not love and romance.  You
Leave your poems on the shelf."

"Your world is upside-down," he said.  "Truth is not what it seems,"
She answered.  "Having a girlfriend is not all bliss:
You'll suffer much frustration;
She'll nag you every day; you'll have to give up all your dreams
To compromise with what she wants.  You'll only kiss
Her...then comes the temptation

"To be with girls like me.  You've already proven how weak
You are, and you'll do it again.  Tell no more lies
To your gullible heart.
Give up your girl, then you'll be free.  And with all candour, seek
Out girls like me.  Take me to bed, and with your eyes,
Learn of my every part."

She felt the Herod in him rising, under where she sat,
And St. John disappeared below.  She then would rub
Her buttocks on the place.
She got up, spread her legs, and bent over.  Herod looked at
What he'd just known.  She turned around, and put her shrub,
Well-trimmed, against his face.

"The pleasure of sex comes from knowing, not loving, a girl,"
She said. "Don't try to know the soul.  The body is
The only living thing."
"Very well," he said.  "Come to my hotel room, and then unfurl
Your every secret place."  He then unbuttoned his
Bag.  In it, he did bring

A small raincoat that he gave her to wear instead of clothes,
For this immodest minx preferred to wear as few
Coverings as she could.
The steps from whorehouse to hotel, as many as sailors' oaths
Are cried in a sea storm, made him say to her, "You
Will hurt your bare feet.  I should

"Buy shoes for you."  Salome said, "There is no need for shoes,
For if I cut or bruise my feet, I can endure
Pain, as I can enjoy
The pleasure we'll have on your bed.  For when we pleasure lose,
Appreciating when we have it is more sure:
It's a more valued toy."

Thus she tip-toed along with him,and when they reached his room,
She gleefully removed the raincoat, baring all.
It didn't worry the whore
That other people saw her nude.  She focused on the doom
That she would give to Herod.  Some men down the hall
Were hoping to see more,

But Herod brought Salome in the room and locked the door.
He got undressed, and both of them got on the bed.
He re-explored each breast,
Each buttock and each leg, and what's between them all.  The whore
Reminded him, "There's nothing to learn in the head.
The body is the best

"Of all the things a man can know.  Lust takes the place of love
Most easily.  You don't need to know about minds,
Ideas, thoughts or books.
Learn what's beneath the waist.  Below, thus, is the new above!
What pleasurable treasures the eye happily finds
In nude girls' luscious looks!"

After a night of wild lovemaking, they lay there and slept.
The next morning, after enjoying her again,
They went to clothing stores.
He bought her high-heeled shoes and a small dress.  She, so adept
At making men her slaves, enjoyed being worshipped.  Then
They walked along the shores

Of a beach along Pattaya, where they traveled together.
(Salome didn't care about her Bangkok work;
She wanted to destroy
That young man.)  She and Herod so enjoyed the sunny weather,
That she removed her dress and shoes.  It didn't irk
Her that many a boy

Playing on the beach would see her nude.  She wanted to corrupt
As many males as possible.  The more we learn,
The less we really know:
For her, this paradox means that the more a man has supped
On, learned of, her voluptuousness, the more he'll spurn
True knowledge-her bright foe.

She waded waist-deep in the water, teasing each onlooker
Who watched the bouncing waves hide and reveal her so
Delicious nether places.
She smiled, delighted to be seen thus, and eagerly shook her
So well-shaped breasts for all the men who wished to know
Her--to them--unknown spaces.

Then Herod told her to get out of the water and get dressed,
For he saw coming, from far away, policemen who
Knew of Salome's lewdness.
She came out, put her shoes and dress back on, and they were pressed
To leave and not be apprehended; for she knew,
In her daemonic shrewdness,

That Herod's being arrested wouldn't be enough damnation.
All of the times that they made love, he was protected
With a sure, rubber cover.
She wanted Herod to forget to wear it: degradation
Would be achieved; the reason Herod was selected
To be her lurid lover

Was to give the young man a burning venereal disease.
He had been careful up till now; arousing his lust,
She'd make him lower his guard.
Being lascivious in public was a way to please
Him; so she squatted, raised her dress (now this would just
Make resistance too hard),

And urinated on the ground, her vulva plainly seen
By anyone who passed by on the busy street!
Their hotel being near,
They raced off to their room; warm yellow still dripped from between
Her legs.  (When filth is flowing from a girl who's sweet,
Men all the more will leer.)

Before they even got inside, she was already nude,
For she'd have no diminishment of lechery,
And she'd have him unsheathed.
She, on the bed, was on all fours--both entries clearly viewed;
He chose the muddy upper one, and coverless, he
Went in--with passion, he seethed.

Though he felt carnal knowledge open up all around him
And widen a wild tunnel of sensuality,
He still had yet to know
The red fire of the germ that she'd passed to him.  He had dim
Ideas of its pain, but soon reality
Him would all overthrow.

A mere three days passing after he left the wicked minx,
He knew a new, unwanted, burning hot sensation
In the thin, guilty tunnel
Through which his lechery once poured out in copious lewd drinks.
What once gave pleasure now gave pain--no consolation.
His sweetheart now would shun all

Of his entreaties for forgiveness once she knew of his guilt.
The pain in his groin forced confession in his face,
And now their love was dead.
Salome, though, was gratified to know their love would wilt;
For if a man wanted to know her lower place,
She'd make him lose his head.