Non-Consensual Wet T-Shirt Contest

I’ve only ever been in one wet t-

shirt contest, and it was against my will

though most wouldn’t think that it would be 

a big deal to a stripper — that it’d feel 

a little less degrading wearing a shirt 

even if the pails of icy water thrown

on a December evening didn’t hurt 

(cold temperatures keep nipples pert for none

of us were at all aroused, wanted to 

make it to a house, three dancers stuck in 

a shift so dead it fucks with revenue 

and pretty heads).  We could only leave when

we filled in as amateurs across the street,

a sports bar contest that feels like defeat.