Archive for March, 2019

Protected: The Belfast Chronicles: Operation Demetrius: Part V “Still Waving”

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Protected: The Belfast Chronicles: Operation Demetrius: Part IV “Barricades”

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Protected: The Belfast Chronicles: Operation Demetrius Part III – “The Boys Are Away”

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Protected: The Belfast Chronicles: Operation Demetrius: Part II – “The Bangor Boat’s Away”

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Protected: The Belfast Chronicles: Operation Demetrius: Part I – “In Grannie’s Kitchen”

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Going To Waste

Going To Waste
By Keara Murphy
Published
8 March 2019
International Women’s Day

My sleazy boss
Metaphorically
Tossing off
Under his desk
As he quizzes me
On the actions of
The Concierge
Harassing me
Silently
Sleekitly
Sexually

hutchiec_demolition1993

Now my body is in the frame
Policed by the Man
Who’d recently discovered
The term “Sexual Harassment”
At a conference
Involving wine
And networking
And flirting
Promoting himself
Returning to his desk
On Monday morning
With new vigour
To root this practice
Out!
Out. Out.
Out! Out! Out!
He might get a promotion

Twisting his moustache
Around in his fingers
Smirking
Tossing his ginger tresses
Head back
Nose up
Hands wringing
Slowly caressing
His own fingers
As I sat before him
Summoned!
To tell him the tale
The whole tail
And nothing but the tail
Of what the Concierge
Did or did not do to me
In the foyer
Of Queen Elizabeth Square

Out with it!
Out with it!

They must have done something
They must have done something
They. Must. Have. Done. Something!

My breasts
My stomach
My legs
my lips
My face
My Mound of Venus
Belongs to him
On this Monday morning
Across his leather
Polished desk
His eyes fixed on
My breasts
My breasts
Ah!
My breasts
Then penetrates my
Baby Blues
And suggests coffee
Buzzing his receptionist
To fetch it for us
Without breaking
Eye contact
It might loosen my tongue
My tongue
My tongue
Ah!
My tongue

My eyes fixed on his face
As he tosses his
Greasy tresses
Neck stretched
Shoulders back
Nose up
Runs his hand
Down his shirt
Half smiling;
Half smirking
Lingeringly
Leering
And quizzes me
On the “Sexual Harassment”
That I had not reported
Nor want to report
As it was mild
Barely something
Barely anything
Nothing to report

But my female middle-manager
Did have something to report
Her promotion
So she reported it
In writing
So now it is official
I am being Sexually Harassed
By The Concierge
She had been at the same conference
She also drank wine
And networked
And flirted
With her seniour bosses
Promoting herself
She might get a promotion
She must get that promotion
She’s getting that promotion!

The report:
Overheard by someone
Who overheard it
From someone else
Who told it
To Someone else
Who told it to her
And she reported it:
A comment
Addressed to me
From one of
My Men
About me
Leaving for the weekend
The Long Weekend
Me alone in my flat
Going to waste
Such a creature
Such a fine body
Those curves
Uncarressed
Unattended
Unused
Unseen
All alone
On the weekend
Such a waist
Such a thigh
Such a hip
Such lips
Oh! – Such a lalalabia
Going to waste

We must have it out!

She said.

I let it go
One single comment
Spoken in jest
I was undisturbed
I was used to it
Working alongside
16 male security guards
On 24 hour shifts
Over a five-day week
I laughed it off
What are they like!
Men!
A bit of banter.
I know my ‘boys’
No biggie
And they are my friends

His Lordship
In his office
Is now running his eyes
across my 23 year-old body
In fitted skirt;
knitted jumper
Corporation anorak
Hard hat and wellies
A walky-talky in one hand
A portfolio in the other
A pretty face
A strong body
Single white female
A predator’s dream
A Marvel
The power
She wants me
I know
She wants me

Tell me what happened!

Just doing my job
Just doing my job
Tending the 400 flats
On The Estate
No mean task
Ordering repairs
Removing graffiti
Inspecting common areas
Attending viewings
Upkeep
General maintenance
Attending meetings
With the Concierge
The Tenants Association
The Drug Squad
The Social Workers
Development
Taking minutes
Drinking tea
With my team
Mostly male
Nothing happened

He cannot let it go
He needs the facts
What happened that evening
In the foyer
Something must have happened
It’s not in the minutes
Why is it not in the minutes
The unwritten truth
What did they say
What did they do
To you
He needs something
He needs something
He needs something
To put in a report
To send to Head Office
To secure his rise
His Big Promotion

He needs something
Sex!
To gratify himself –
Sex!
Hungover
Sex!
On this
Dreary Monday Morning
Sex!
Let’s get to the bottom
Of it all
Sex!
Let’s get to the bottom
Of it all
Sex!
Let’s get to the bottom
Of it all
Sex!
Let’s get to the bottom of it
Sex!

I’m squirming
Denying
Brushing it off
He’s teasing me
Smirking
Smiling
Leering
I’m straight
Unmoving
Nothing happened

My boss disagrees
Let’s get it out
Let’s get it out
Let’s get it out
Get it out
Get it out
Get it out
NOW!
Come on
Give it to me
Come on
Give it to me
Come on
Give it to me
Come on
Give it to me

What did they do to you!
The Concierge
What did they do to you
On the back stairs
What did they do to you
In the lift
What did they do to you
In The Fire Resistant Shaft
With the Dry Riser
What did they do to you in
The Pump Store
What did they do to you
In The Refuse Block
With the Sprinkler
What did they do to you
In the courtyard
Under the arches
What did they do to you
In the basement
What did they do to you
In The Engine Room
What did they do to you
In the Tea Room
Involving biscuits

They must have done something
They must have done Something
They must have done something

As he looks lustfully
Up and down
My fully clothed
23 year-old
Body
He sees an entry point
In the gap where my anorak
Zip
Is unzipped
My belly
My breasts
My waist
My hips
My arms
At arms length
His hands
Under my jumper

What did they do to you
They must have done something
He can only imagine
Taking off my anorak
He can only imagine
Removing my jumper
He can only imagine
Fondling my breasts
He can only imagine
Slipping off my tights
He can only imagine
Running his hands down my legs
He can only imagine
His hand on my skin
He can only imagine
Kissing my neck
He can only imagine
His lips on mine
He can only imagine
Caressing my arse
He can only imagine
Pressing himself against me
He can only imagine
He and I and the Dry Riser
In The Boiler Room
At midnight
Alone – with noone to hear
My Screams
He can only imagine
I would be submissive
He can only imagine
Me stealing away
Like a wolf in the night
Silent
Invisible

He can only imagine
He can only imagine
He can only imagine

He demanded the CCTV
To be brought to him
To examine it
To have access
All areas
To watch over
Me
To watch over
Me
And over
Me
And over
Me
And over
Me
AGAIN
And oh! Oh! OH!
Oh-oh-oh-ver!
AGAIN

But he could only imagine

He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine
He could only imagine

By Keara Murphy
Published
8 March 2019

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