Lounge Fantasy
Work
on how you move
your eyes up and down
and stare at nothing.
Judge
the smirk of a face
by the instinct of what is safe.
Pace
the alcohol and the grinds
with the break-time white lines.
Watch
the arms of the clock
the placement of the little cloth knot.
The men are fat like lard.
The dancing goes in and out.
It’s never bright or dark enough.
What’s loud is loud.
Enough is too much.
Learn
to make a buck
by what you put out to be touched.
Earning
with smiles and struts
that can be given to anyone,
anytime.
The open mouth is soft wet and shallow.
Heads turn towards the light.
The magic don’t come from outside.
Kathy treats your eyes like a camera.
She bends over and sounds a hiss.
Her teeth are pointed, her eyes quickly shift.
You are the bars that pay to cage her in.
She lifts a polka dot short skirt like she’s scared and wants to scream.
Now she’s down on all fours, inviting you to be mean with her.
Her tension can rip you to shreds.
She lunges forward with a toss of her head.
Smiles over her shoulder when she reaches for her drink.
She leaves a path across her belly with the ice from her glass.
Stroking her hair and squeezing her lips,
Then stamping her heel like a petulant bitch.
If she wanted to have you, she wouldn’t smile
and you’d have to be crazy and full of guile
to know.
The only way is for it to happen is fast.
She knows why her relationships don’t ever last.
Smoothing over,
she searcher the bar for a place to sit
and finds her spot by the curly headed kid
who buys her a drink and asks her who she’s here with.
Smiling at Barbara will help to make things nice.
She does everything slowly so that you can look as long as you like.
Somebody says, “Marry me!”
Wiggling, she strokes his dollar
And answers, “What would we do with your wife?”
The laughter is low, like the crunch of gravel.
She squeezes her nipples and points them at her lips.
She puts out a towel and goes down on her back,
Holding her ankles and humping the air.
Her eyes are closed when she sits up,
opens her mouth and spreads her legs
rocking there quietly like she’d wait all day.
At a table off the bar and to the back,
the owner always has a phone in his hand.
The bartender whispers, although no one is around
“Barbara says she’ll do Louie.”
The owner smirks and nods.
Barbara sees her message delivered
and thinks for a hundred she can work one.
Coming here is what it is,
fantasy consumers,
some hit too hard, some totally missed.
“We’re all just beauties that don’t know what beauty is.”
Kathy says, “You guys get hot and then you squirt.
You’re all just pumps that take a lot of work.”