Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

The whores get younger as
Montez gets older, some

Of them young enough to
Be his daughter if he had

One (daughter that is not
Whore), but he had none,

Except a son, whom he
Gave away at four to some

Mexican couple and saw
Him no more. He liked the

Old whores best, there was
A certain affinity of age and

Times and manners, a feeling
For the old times, the black

And white TV programmes of
Youth, the hot music of their

Nimbler feet, the simple ways
To have a good fuck without

The diseases or such muck.
Sure the young ones spread

Their legs the same, know the
Things to do, know the game,

Got the lingo, some even have
Tattoos in places he never knew,

But he prefers the old whores,
The old dears, the ones, who,

When he was a young punk
And sallow would let him wallow

Between them for free (or so
They said). Now they are most

Of them dead or in care in some
Home or in some ward feeble

And half-cracked knowing nothing
Of him or today or yesterday or

The red light over a doorway in
Some goodtime house or bad time

Row where they once entertained
But not let him give his love or sow.