Red Light District

a poem by Michelle Klemm, Germany - poetry writer, author, poet


Around the church:

The smell of hash lies in the air,
windows veiled by red velvet,
in back alleys booms business.

Men are greedy for
the appealing women,
old or young,
handsome or not;
the curtain closes,
the light turns to red.

Taking photographs is forbidden,
the procurer's eyes are watchful.
The red-light milieu is tolerated,
the bells ring every quarter of an hour.


15.09.2012 Amsterdam

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