This reminds me of mrcarlisle 's poem today.
Carl Sandburg, Chicago Poems, 1916
|LET us be honest; the lady was not a harlot until she married a corporation lawyer who picked her from a Ziegfeld chorus.|
|Before then she never took anybody’s money and paid for her silk stockings out of what she earned singing and dancing.|
|She loved one man and he loved six women and the game was changing her looks, calling for more and more massage money and high coin for the beauty doctors.|
|Now she drives a long, underslung motor car all by herself, reads in the day’s papers what her husband is doing to the inter-state commerce commission, requires a larger corsage from year to year, and wonders sometimes how one man is coming along with six women.|