“She Walks” by Matthew Sorrento

She’ll keep things swift, dialed up…as they want it….

I.
Night by night
she dreads the entrance.
But once inside,
things just go by
as she moves through
the dirty air,
her bare skin firm
against any grabs
– discouraged,
but not forbidden.
Their bills are
just as grimy
but later pile up,
except for
half to the house.

Once on stage
she peers just enough
to spot those hungry
to hand it over.

II.

One night she had
something different.
A local rock club
booked an 80s band.
“Big, big-time hair metal!”
her boss said;
she had no idea.
There she’d be dressed
down, but still
playing a role:
the kind of groupie that
no longer existed.
Thankfully, no trip backstage
on order – just her
flirty moves by the stage,
for the band, an eager cameraman.
The small, older crowd,
out of place,
but ones she’d imagine
as her regulars.

III.

Tonight, before opening,
her boss hands her an address.
“I know you don’t like these,”
he says,
“but paid in advance.”
He shows her several $100s.
“Take two now.”

She imagines the drive first:
a bouncer coming along
to wait in the car,
though probably gone
after showing his face.
She never likes taking
the small piece
required for these remotes,
but considers what
this kind
has waiting for her.
She’ll keep things swift,
dialed up from dancing
at the club,
as they want it,
but an eye on the door,
the departure never too soon.