I’ve seen a Venus not of marble carved

By some great sculptor’s hand in ancient Greece,

Unearthed in a mutilated state

By archaeologists in quest of ruins

And pedestaled in temple of fine art.

The Venus I have seen was made of flesh,

Of ordinary, living, human flesh,

More beautiful than statue e’er could be.

She stands behind a counter in a store

From morning until night dispensing wares—

A living Venus at five dollars per.