The Lower Reaches (my impressions of a strip club.)

the lower reaches
Down here, men are cheap.
Men are wasted, women are lost.
Here at the bottom of the social heap.

Watch the men, the lonely men.
As they walk through the door.
Their shifty eyes look left and right.
"Is that my mother over there?"
Or maybe they're just looking for a fight.

Dancers gyrate on the stage,
Moving to the beat.
(We're all sweating  from the heat))
The dancer's clothes fall to the floor.
Men are shouting: "More, more, more."
I think they're shouts of pleasure
but maybe they're screams of rage.

The music's loud.
The lights are bright, then dim.
You can't pleasure, not happiness here-
You take out what you brought in.
Though it's become a home to lonely hearts
And broken women and men.
But for a dollar, you can buy a smile.

"When the gods are laughing at us, they answer our prayers."