The seeming grown woman
goes for a thirty nine year old
guitar playing bad boy. It’s how
he plays—not who he is. He doesn’t
know that yet. And the woman
gives out jobs that’s what she does
she has always given out jobs
This Madame of Music
treating whores as artists
artists as whores.
Where are the drugs? The booze? The yelling
in the speakeasy, the flash of the knife?
They are lost in stories, but
the Madame of the Music
gives out jobs
despite the fact she knows that
lovers go to other rooms
and whisper their secrets
over other wooden tables
with initials carved into the surfaces
with butter knives.