Riviera Lounge Woman

The woman
of the Riviera Lounge
pawns her beauty off
with winks, drinks and puckered lips,
filling hot and steamy lust-buckets
with the swarm of cold, green cash

she’ll bend her body
into shapes you’ve never known,
twisting legs into a mold of dirty dreams,
she’ll blow your mind
with wicked, wild glances
sliding around the stage pole
so fast it’ll make your head spin off

The woman
of the Riviera Lounge
puts out small moments to men;
little love-buzz moments
that hover in time and space;
the first beer of the night,
bases loaded with nobody out,
Black Jack! Hole in one!
Check mate!
intoxicating moments
understood only by men
under the influence of
their own gonads

The woman
of the Riviera Lounge
stands like a monument;
an affirmation of our own
desire to spill our seed
onto bar stools,
bedposts,
shower drains,
down the hole to
Nowheresville, New Jersey
and eventually, right back
into our own bar glasses