Child of Amsterdam
the droplets ran in blurring rivulets,
her form behind the glass a fluid shape,
a naked wraith in smoke from cigarettes;
about her shoulders ghostly tendrils drape
when posing through the pane into the street
through plumes of steam adorning as a cape;
sat unclothed upon the window seat,
dulled by all the damage needles do,
reposed another teenage piece of meat;
sex for sale to feed the human zoo,
sightlessly she pouts into the damp,
at all the punters staring coldly through;
sat beneath the ruddy neon lamp,
her habit gnaws, serrated like a clam,
and chews upon her loins with grit and cramp;
pale and skinny like a slaughtered lamb,
remaining statue still with ersatz smile,
another sorry child of Amsterdam…
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