WHEN I WAS fifteen back in Charleston, my cousin Phoebe taught me to strip. She was older than my mother but she had some body. When I watched her she’d laugh, say That’s all right Honey sex is sex. It don’t matter if you do it with monkeys. Yeah she said, You’re white an dewy an tickin like a time bomb an now’s the time to learn. With that long blond hair you can’t lose. An don’t you paint your face till you have to, every daddy wants his daughter. That’s what she said. The older dancers wear makeup an love the floor, touchin themselves. The men get scared an cluster round, smokin like paper on a slow fire. Once in Laramie I was in one of those spotted motels after a show an a man’s shadow fell across the window. I could smell him past the shade, hopeless an cracklin like a whip. He scared me, like I had a brother who wasn’t right found a bullwhip in the shed. He used to take it out some days and come back with such a look on his face. I don’t wanna know what they know. I went into the bathroom an stood in the fluorescent light. Those toilets have a white strip across em that you have to rip off. I left it on an sat down. I brushed my hair an counted. Counted till he walked away kickin gravel in the parkin lot. Now I’m feelin his shadow fall across stages in Denver an Cheyenne. I close my eyes an dance faster, like I used to dance blind an happy in Pop’s closet. His suits hangin faceless on the racks with their big woolly arms empty. I play five clubs a week, $150 first place. I dance three sets each against five other girls. We pick jukebox songs while the owner does his gig on the mike. Now Marlene’s gonna slip ya into a little darkness Let’s get her up there with a big hand. The big hands clap an I walk the bar all shaven an smooth, rhinestoned velvet on my crotch. Don’t ever show em a curly hair Phoebe told me, Angels don’t have no curly hair. That’s what she said. Beggin, they’re starin up my white legs. That jukebox is cookin an they feel their fingers in me. Honey you know it ain’t fair what you do Oh tell me why love is a lie jus like a ball an chain. Yeah I’m a white leather dream in a cowboy hat, a ranger with fringed breasts. Baby stick em up Baby don’t touch Baby I’m a star an you are dyin. Better find a soft blond god to take you down. I got you Baby I got you Let go.