  every leg show in the city Old men cut from touch by the perfumed music— polished or fleeced skulls that stand before the whole theater in silent attitudes of attention,— old men who have taken precedence over young men and even over dark-faced husbands whose minds are a street with arc-lights. Solitary old men for whom we find no excuses— I bow my head in shame for those who malign you. Old men the peaceful beer of impotence be yours! |
|
