Ziggy
3:25 a.m.
 
Some scuzz shouts from a strip joint,
“Shake it—Don’t break it!”
 
Cheryl clings to Don, scared, sorry she
came along. I cut lose with a shimmy,
forgetting Mickey has unhooked my bra.
 
Mick sneaks a peek in the door
under a flashing sign:
 
TOPLESS DANCERS
GLOW-IN-THE-DARK-TITS
 
Beer spills from a paper bag, while
Mick shoots the shit with a bouncer,
trying to convince him he’s 21.
 
I bet those dancers make more than
the 50-cents an hour I get babysitting
psycho kid.
 
“Shake it, baby!”