Nova Alexandra Whore ❤️❤️

About New Plymouth

Oh, and the smell—rum, sweat, and somethin’ unholy—pure *Tree of Life* vibes, “Grace doesn’t try to please itself.” Grace my arse, she’s pleasin’ herself to my wallet! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d wager she’s bedded half the fleet and still kicks like a mule. Personal quirk—I’m mutterin’ to meself, “Ricky, you daft twat, why’d ya bother?” Cos it’s a laugh, innit! Whores—they’re the real sailors, ridin’ waves of idiots like me. Sarcasm? Mate, she’s a walkin’ punchline— “Oh, bless ya, captain, you’re me first today!” Yeah, and I’m the bloody Pope!

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A piecemeal narrative composed of twenty-nine poems, Alexandra Naughton's book, I Will Always Be Your Whore: Love Songs for Billy Corgan.

Finally, I squeeze past and head to my shop on the corner of Wansbeck St. It’s a small place, but it’s mine. Got my tools all laid out, ready to go. But then, I get a call. It’s my mate, Dave. He’s like, “Bro, you won’t believe what just happened!” I’m thinkin’, “Dude, I’m about to cut some bones here, what’s up?” Turns out, he’s stuck at the Alexandra Market. Apparently, someone brought in a goat. A goat! In the middle of the market!

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