Least (I thought) among my many clients,
A nude dancer brought me every year
A tiny wage report—to my query
She quips, “Yep, that’s all” (a tad defiant).
Thus it went until her noncompliance
Flamed—1099B’s confirmed my fears.
And brokerage year-end reports made clear:
Fifty grand, not five, propped her environs.
“We have a problem here; it’s not funny,”
I admonished. “You must declare your tips!”
Arms tightly crossed, back stiff, slit-eyed, pursed lips,
She spat, “I get naked for that money!”
Distraught, I bellowed: “Uncle doesn’t care!”
I softened then, “Should IRS attend
To you—tell them ‘I have a friend.’” Daring
Eyes, taut smile, she purred, “I have many friends.”
Eyes tight, teeth clenched, I whisper, “No! Just one
Loving “friend”; you’re not a corporation!”
(4/18/07)