Classic Poem

Joe Hammer makes his move on
screen and the girl cries out for Mamma.
A family of sperm packs up and moves
house. The removal of limbs.
The images dim to an impotent mauve
and the stage act begins. Shes
only working warm, consistent as a
vibrator. She hopes one day
to make big bucks; the conference
room, that is, before she hits twenty.
The one spotlight fixes on
the portico between her thighs.
The audience soughs in the dark. Strippers
dont have no union, strippers dont.
O Karen, your smile, cool as a cucumber.