Here, let me get us started…
Entering Fort Lauderdale
by David Burn
The back of my 32 year-old thighs
no longer command
top dollar
from the gentlemanly class.
Now I work
behind a bar
in a Bam Bam outfit
and men still look.
I let them eye my dance
with cash and whiskey.
Some still offer me money
to go home with them.
I say, “I’m not a whore, asshole.”
But I go home with them sometimes.
I take their money too.
It’s a free country.
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