Va-Va-Voom

Flim-Flam dances to the beat of a drugged out drummer Her moves are suggestive and sometimes vulgar Her hands are soiled and damp holding onto the grimy pole She’s topless and her dancing is like a listless puppet performing a role She has a striking body and her hair is curly and luxuriant It makes patrons’ thoughts lean towards prurience As the evening lumbers on, Flim-Flam’s dancing slows to a crawl She’s tired, hungry and wants to curl up and bawl A huge man approaches the stage sneering at her with tight dark eyes He’s obese, sweaty, dirty, and wears an obscene leather tie Flim-Flam looks down and backs up in mortal fear It’s her stepfather; he’s found her; he staggers as he leers He hollers. “Got ya, Gal, you gonna be sorry you ran away – you hear?” He grabs at Flim-Flam, but a bouncer steps in with a bone-crushing slam Her stepfather pulls a hunting knife bellowing and slashing But the bouncer is bigger, fitter, and not afraid of grabbing Crazed bullies, liquored, riled up and flailing The bouncer drops the stepfather to marry the floor Disarms him, pins him while hollering, “Flim-Flam, get out the back door” Slamming into the bouncer’s 4x4, Flim-Flam hunkers down weeping She hears sirens, people shouting, cursing, tires screeching She hears the Miranda given just before she slides into oblivion A gentle hand shakes her awake, it’s the bouncer, his name is Jake Her new husband smiles with kindness, his love shining forth “We’re going north to the farm where I was born and want to live my life With you by my side, not “Flim’Flam”, but Grace Marshall, my wife He holds her close whispering, kissing, reassuring “Va-Va-Voom” disappears; a happy ending, a promising beginning.