Burlesque Bordello, characters, fallen swans, art students, rich Dutch royals, Noire detectives with their cigarettes, and seductresses, 1920’S Europe Sophisticated Erotica. Prince of Brazil, heirs to fortunes, young queens, refined, and romanticised, reflecting the era, engaged in decadence, sexual excess, no consequence. Cabaret, Cabaret, Cabaret.
Dinner party finally over,
Guests, family, friends.
Chauffeurs holding up,
Helping in their masters.
House staff, pushing to get everybody out
With all of their things,
If not leaving,
Helping them settle in for the night.
In the commotion
Three bottles of wine smuggled up
Into room, door behind locked.
Young princess drunk saying to cousin;
“Oh this fireplace is too warm,
I always tell Louie to make a small fire,
I don’t want to lie sweating away in bed.”
Pushing her against door.
Face to face.
Alcohol on breath.
Moment of silence.
Bottles dropped onto lush carpet.
THE PRINCE OF BRAZIL
Two floors above the club
Tired private party
Entourage, friends and bodyguards
Stumbling around naked
Bottles all over tables,
Half spent, half-still gorging,
Alcohol, flesh on flesh,
Careless seed jets.
On a couch,
Indifferent to the open sex acts,
Professional eater of the fruits of the world
Long hair, fully dressed in white and rose
Spoiled, rich, rotten
Used to always being the beautifulest boy around
Taste of cognac and chocolate on lips
Compliments of the Chocolatier.
Opium pipe in hand,
Ass a breath away from cheek
Not even into it.
Occasionally looking across the room.