In Room 505
there’s a man alive
to the few things that matter to him.
In the room next door
a man of the law
counts out the wages of sin.

A merchant of menace
is in the hall,
from Soho to Venice
she skins them all.

In Room 509
arranged in a line
are the few things that matter to me.
I wait on the bed
my hands on my head
waiting for her to be free.

A merchant of menace
is in the hall,
from Soho to Venice
she skins them all.

A merchant of menace
is in the hall,
from Soho to Venice
she skins them all.

And when she sees
who she can tease,
and when she bites
and bangs to rights,
and when she flicks,
pricks and kicks,
it’s pleasure for measure
that’s all.

Copyright Keith Ames