the hypnotist

press my knees against
the well worn stage’s well worn apron
belly me up
to the low slung table under nicotine mottled, burn blotted linens

i’ve learned to clap heartily
with a cigarette perched between two fingers
without ashing
to absent-mindedly drag on the thing
plugging away without looking
finding the butt with my tongue
and adding my own thin lipped sizzle to the hi-hat and crash

i’ve learned to lean forward
just over the footlights
even shaved what beard i had
it would get so damn hot

i’ve learned to stroke my sweaty shot of cold whiskey
when my fidgeting hand needs something to do
slamming it past my teeth every twelve minutes or so
to dole out my thunder in aching applause

i’m here for the hypnotist

the one with the narcotizing eyes
that mystical mien
held in the physique of a tawny bawd
a lithe bag of bones draped in elastic pieces
that spring and quiver at her urging

the one covered in pearls
(to use a loose term loosely)
a slip of see-through structure
filled with twisting body
detailed in trembling tassel
clinging for dear life to each spasm and throb

she picks her footing easily
landing each shard of stiletto
in pocks dug four times a night
for the last six years
the touch down of each toe
a tapping baton
to keep time for the clean faced striplings behind their bandstands

with each wobble
i’m pulled further out into my shrinking skin
without opening her mouth
i’m riveted to every word she plants somewhere past my face
held in mid-air, slavering, a god damned dog
agog, pavlovian,
just fucking soaking in it

there is no stillness,
just flutters and quakes
and impudent little breasts making their proud little fly-by
and nervy cheeks joggling, jerking under pearls
the saucy split globes waggle and swing
each giving off its own distinct heat
setting me in a daze shy of madness
ecstatic, catatonic
sending my own sentience down my throat in whiskey swallows

now turning upstage in a splayed stance
with knees crooked a degree or twenty,
and fisted arms up, elbows crushing back,
trotting out tits for the god damned squirts in the brass section
her spine torqued like a winded mizzen
exposing a spanker, on offer
like some rippling lottery prize
to be raked at with both hands

she winks at the tadpole behind the traps
cueing a double stick simmer
a rolling snare skin clap of brewing thunder
that heats the tinder somewhere in her heart
provoking wicked embers to stoke to flame
rupturing out in jouncing waves
licking at my eyes
whipping my frenzied tongue into the roof of my mouth
convulsing in jarring jerks
that churn and reel in increasing waves
then i’m clinched
the coup-de-grace
the concussive quietus
orgasmically waking me from my sweat-soaked, whiskey-stained,
dragging-without-ashing stupor
to dole out my thunder in aching applause

she’s hypnotized me four times a night
for nearly six years
from my table pressed against the well worn apron of her stage
my debauched little shaman
shaking her bodhi into my brain
in bawdy pulses and spasming strings of pearls