It's finally happened: I've gone native
currently living in a rented Gibsonian coffin hotel run by Turkish gastarbeiters mere meters
from the central train station
incessant rain, wi-fi card acting up
after laptop took a sharp knock
thirty minutes at a euro and a half
in an allnight Amsterdam internet joint
that reeks of Afghani hash
They really ought to throw in a free
Taliban AK-47 bullet with every gram,
you know
midnight streets shiny and
haunted by toothless spare-changing derelicts
and lemur-eyed female junkie bag thieves
the Red Light District must be somewhere
near here, I can sense that Somerset
Maugham air of human degradation, you get
to where you can smell it after a while
I reckon I'll fill my idle hours tomorrow
by shopping for Dutch designer knickknacks;
maybe a Marcel Wanders toothbrush or a
Hella Jongerius barbecue apron
You know, life sure is rich and full
