Leave Your Camel at the Door

The sign read ‘No kissing,
No spitting, definitely no pissing
On the floor’ (but elsewhere will do)
‘Please leave your camel at the door
It’s just a sand coloured whore
With a hump the size of the Sahara’.

Inside, purple neon lights, breathing
Fumes like halitosis onto seething
Cowboys, moistened by the low grade beer,
A jukebox playing Dusty Springfield,
Fists flying and blood on the bar, congealed
From the night the camel came in the door

The sign must have been a private joke-
There’s no way kissing had reached these folk,
I sashayed, ducked and danced my way through
Checking my exit, my getaway in sight
As I tipped the jukebox to Barry White
And rode my camel off into the night.