Calling Card

Early Saturday morning
At Five Points, near the fountain  
I couldn’t help but notice  
There by a parking meter  
A single back boot  
With a sexy stiletto heel  
The suede shaft bent over  
As if it too were still tired  
From the previous evening.  
Friday nights can get busy,  
Especially for a good looking  
Girl like Betty (not her real name)  
An English major (Creative writing,  
Poetry is her passion),  
But her abandoned boot discloses  
She is also a prostitute, a hooker,  
A sex worker by any other name,  
Though her clients prefer to call her  
An escort to make themselves feel better.  
Betty says tuition is expensive.  
And while it wasn’t her first choice,  
A girl has to find a way  
To make ends meet,  
Besides, she’s got the body for it.  
Young and athletic,  
Strikingly attractive,  
A feast for the eyes of lonely men  
(translation – married men).  
She has her regulars and her newbies.  
She takes classes during the day and  
Works the streets at night.  
She studies any time she can.  
Friday night was jumping,  
But the cops were out  
Hassling all the working girls.  
Betty got arrested, her third time.  
She was “making adjustments” before  
They cuffed her,  
That’s when she took her boot off.  
The cop grabbed her upper arm  
With a firm grip and tugged her  
Toward the squad car.  
“Let’s go” he demanded.  
“Hey, my boot!” Betty said  
In a feeble petition.  
“Leave it” the cop said sternly.  
He opened the car door  
Pressing the palm of his hand  
On the top of her head  
As he guided it in.  
“Watch your legs”  
He commanded  
As he closed the door.  
He got in behind the wheel  
It was just another night’s work for him.  
He keyed the mic on his radio  
And said, “483 transporting  
Suspect back to the station.  
483 en route.” Then drove off  
Leaving Betty’s boot,  
A size 7, Calvin Klein  
Open toed, suede in black  
As a calling card.  
A cryptic message  
To her customers  
Who instantly interpret it as  
“I know you’re lonely  
And I have exams so,  
Boys come get me.  
You know where I am.”  
Because I’d recognize  
That boot anywhere  
I pick it up and  
Head down to the station  
To post her bail.