The Stripper (As Sung By Sting) Poem by David McLansky

She dances in the desert sands
Still she hears the three-piece band
Her sequined dress of turquoise blue
Dried platinum strands her eyes peak through;

Mascara eyes of invitation;
She snakes and swells in sleek gyrations;
A desert flower in heat vibration;
The latest craze, the new sensation;

She shimmers in the barren land
She waves an ostrich feather fan
Feigning lust and excitation
Pelvic thrusts and undulations

She lifts her ams, her pudgy hands
And breathing deep, her breasts expand;
These her body's finest feature
She cups them like two favorite creatures;

Her body writhes, she turns around,
She lives alone, far out from town;
She shakes her hips, she palms her thighs,
Her stage craft played against the sky;

And coyly falls her bodice strap,
Her shoulders roll, she twists her back;
A mountain falls from out her dress;
She lifts her breast, pleased, squeezed, and pressed;

For forty years, this was her act
In empty bars and night clubs packed;
The flesh now coarse and sagging fat;
What she calls home: a tin/board shack;

The pleasure that her body gave
As she undressed upon the stage,
She could not turn into a fortune,
For all her ample, lush proportions;

She dances in the desert sands
Still she hears the three-piece band
Her sequined dress of turquoise blue
Wild platinum hair her eyes peak through;

Mascara eyes of invitation;
She snakes and swells in sleek gyrations;
A desert flower in heat vibration;
The latest craze, the new sensation;

She shimmers in the barren land
She waves an ostrich feather fan
Feigning lust and excitation
Pelvic thrusts and undulations;

She dances in the desert sands;
She shimmers in the barren land;
A desert flower in heat vibration;
She waves and swells in sleek gyrations...