the four foot ten girl
age twenty-seven
spreads her asshole
with great
intention

this one
recently had a breast
reduction and
proudly
shows her scars

some
have children
fussing in the next room

one puts away her pussy
to do laundry
she puts on
sweats
she looks
human

they eat
sip water or
pop
rarely alcohol

vape
lots

most
have tattoos

some,
expanses
of them

one has
spiderwebs
inked
on her breasts

another a
gush
of
roses on
her
vulva

one woman
can
fart at will
she makes
money

a woman with
extensive
vitiligo
making money

a woman
crying
on the edge of the
bed
bare walls
industrial paint
ragged blanket
dead pillow
stuffed donkey
crammed on a bar

this one, her ass
is
the size of
my outstretched arms

one woman dresses up
as a pea pod
and her partner
is a
big carrot;
they hop
two veggies
they
are
a hit

one plays piano
well and
does not
get naked
except no socks
and
men
pelt tips
at her feet
on the pedals

one has many
great dark
hairs growing
from her
nipples

one smiles
for hours
with her face
dressed in what is
supposedly a guy’s
come

“are you,” I type to
an exhausted-looking
person,
“being trafficked?”
instantly she
bans me

one has shelves of classics
behind her while she dances
with her great bush so I ask,
“What about Céline?
Journey
shattered him –“

banned

these women
do shows
to put themselves
through school
buy an apartment,
survive . . .

this one wears a mask
her trick is
to
meow
a full-timer
she makes money

from her loved eyes
I can tell
she has a partner
who greets her after
she has worked her show
“hi babe
how was your day
I’ll get your
robe
dinner’s
ready
slicing up a
lime
you want
a gin and tonic?”