Here's a poet I'll read this, called
"Grand Hotel," which is in Prague.
We were staying we stayed by mistake one
night Anne Marie and I at the Grand Hotel, which I discovered
while we were there was a Nazi brothel in Prague
and this is about that.
"The time I took Anne Marie to what
had been a Nazi brothel in Prague,
some tourists were standing under the chandelier
and some leftover communists stood there explaining
the thickness of glass and what the history was of glass
making in the Czech Republic.
And we walked through them to get seats,
so we could suck in the Art Nouveau,
over our coffee and undercooked pancakes.
Before we got into the ancient elevator
and went back to our room, en suite as it
were and dirty, dark and seedy at that.
And looked in the bottom of the wardrobe behind the blankets
to see what they did with love, the pricks.
And could we sleep on that mattress
and how thick was the window glass.
And this time walked down the great marble staircase,
holding hands the whole way down nor did I bark even once
or say, fuck you to the Germans."