The hook

the frost dusts the car and at the bar he sits
two tipples away from triple over the limit
the girl fit the seat beside him exactly
and matter-of-factly he told her how her professional manner
and stamina provided him with stimulation
the dedication in her face scanned the place
as if each male with the essence of failure was cash
in her grubby hands

she misses the tip
and kisses his mouth
as if a wife for decades yet barracaded in her head
with a spread of wealthy social knowledge and self-protection
upon reflection the situation she had placed herself in without interpretation
was a position only a person of her malnutrition could take

all eyelashes and dashes of worn rouge on her lips
she removes the scarf the hat the dress the stilletos
the stockings and bra and thong
he licks his lips and slips his fingers south

she wakes to loneliness and hard cash