last call’s captivity

captivity
begins with your legs and the night
bathed in burning orange
that makes the buckles on your heels twinkle
we wipe sweat from our brows
to make room for more later
you giggle with all the coyness
four cranberry and vodkas bring
you’ve got me trapped
with lust living in the netting your wear well enough
to have given Appolonia a few runs
your eyes flash hellion
and with a kiss on your neck
this captivity of the last call
has just begun.

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happy hour fantasy.

she saunters in with the afternoon light
purse and bookbag over shoulder
jeans tighter than a billionaire’s wallet
they call her culona
but her name is Rosalie
born in Bani made her way here in 1973
they call her culona
because she can make earthquakes envious
with the sway of her hips
the first tequila of the day hits her lips
as she zips up a corset
rubs lotion onto her thighs
and straps on high heels
she hopes will elevate her above how she feels
Rosalie from Bani
mother of 2 on job number 3
here Tuesdays and Thursday through Saturday
she
starts work at 5
puts two bucks in the jukebox
and makes her hips come alive
this is the culona
Rosalie from Bani
and for a dollar at a time
a drink and high-school level feels
she will be your happy hour fantasy.