Poetry Brothel co-founder Stephanie Berger raises a glass on December 13, 2008 at the Poetry Brothel in New York City. Transactions at the Poetry Brothel are of the mind, not the body, with customers paying women three to five dollars for private poetry readings.
(AFP/File/Don Emmert)
A customer chooses his girl and poetry on December 13, 2008 at the Poetry Brothel in New York City. At the Manhattan night club called the Zipper Factory customers pay for private poetry readings.
(AFP/File/Don Emmert)
New York poetry brothel tempts with verse
http://www.google.com/hostednews/afp/article/ALeqM5i05leBeM_6D_hlmUDplJls19e6rQNEW YORK (AFP) — The prostitute whispers, wets her lips and prepares to bare... her heart with a poem.
Welcome to New York's Poetry Brothel, where punters delve between the lines, not the sheets.
At a weekend session in a Manhattan night club called the Zipper Factory the look was bona fide bordello.
Literary ladies of the night flitted between intimate, candle-lit nooks, red lights and paintings of nudes.
Some of the poetesses for sale sported retro-style garter belts and frilly knickers. One swanned about in a top hat and feather boa.
But transactions at the Poetry Brothel are of the mind, not the body, and a moment with the catalogue, replete with pictures and whimsical descriptions, reveals what's on offer.
Page four boasts The Professor, swearing to have heard "the wail of your striving heart drifting over the spires of skyscrapers."
Harriett Van Os on page 10 promises to "tell you secrets she doesn't know she knows." Cecille Ballroom tempts punters on page 13 claiming she can "coax your drum."
Gigolo poets are available, not least Poetry Brothel co-founder Nicholas Adamski, who goes by the name Tennessee Pink and tops tempestuous, dark looks with an eye patch.
"Poetry is what I love more than anything," cooed The Madame, the sultry spirit behind the whole idea.
The Madame -- real name Stephanie Berger -- came dressed for the part in low-cut dress, elbow-length black gloves and a peacock headdress.
"I'd rather be in the bedroom hearing poetry than listening to some old man sitting on a chair on a stage," she explained by the light of a guttering candle.
One-on-one encounters, for which "clients" pay three to five dollars in addition to a 15 dollar entry fee and one free reading, took place upstairs.