view from a barroom in amsterdam by M.P. Powers

There’s a sex theater next door
with little flickering lights around
the windows and a bouncer
pacing out front. In the alleyway,
just a little further down, I can see
them –  two glass doors, one
with a thick red curtain
drawn. In the other, a beautiful
woman straddling a chair.
She’s smoking a cigarette, skillfully
dazzling the droll beasts
of the evening, who move past
with their umbrellas. Englishmen,
Turks, Americans, the lonely,
the debauched. I watch them all
go by from this table by the
window, as the church bells toll
in the tower at the foot
of the street; they toll out of sadness,
anger, remorse. They toll
and they keep tolling when
suddenly the curtain pulls back
and a man creeps through
the door. He lowers his head and scurries
off into the rainy evening.
A few minutes later, she appears
in his place. Barely legal, blond,
svelte; she touches her velvety
thighs belly lips sticks her fingers
in her mouth and somehow
you are led to believe
her next
will also be her first.

One Response to “view from a barroom in amsterdam by M.P. Powers”

  1. Father Luke Says:


    – –
    Father Luke

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