(after Horace, Epode XII, Quid tibi vis)
”What the hell do you want? Get back round to your own end.
I don’t know why you’re here standing me pints,
I have nothing for you; I’m no Rockaby donkey.
Just take a look at yourself; you’re past it.
You, with your peroxide hair and your cheap bloody scent;
go on; go and pester the big fellas.”
Honestly, the state of that tart; she gets worse;
old man won’t stand up for my Aggie now,
so he won’t do for her.
She’s always plastered with make-up;
but she’ll need a lot more than Ponds to fill the cracks in her face;
leaving her greasy stains all over the pillows,
then moaning on at me later because I complain.
”You’d no problems getting it up for her in Princess Street;
three-times-a-night-man you were with that slut by all accounts;
I can’t even get a one-off knee-trembler from you now.
Bugger old Florrie; that madam sold me a right pup in you!
And to think, I could have had Harry Chambers.
Now his John Thomas was a sight for sore eyes,
it was up every morning before he was!
Why do you think I make all this effort to look nice;
take the trouble to get my hair shampooed and set;
wear my tightest skirt, my frilly blouse, seamed stockings?
It’s for you, so your pals know I love you.
To hear you, you’d think I was going to eat you alive.
I’m miserable since you stopped our hot afternoons”.
(Notes: 1. The Rockaby was a public house
2. Ponds was a popular face cream in the 1950’s)