This is neon lit backstreets
beckoning tourists to ogle belly-dancers,
choose the one who will do more than simply shimmy.
We arrive at the most neon of neon,
venture inside, every single person smoking,
this is Egypt.
The women are dancing,
the old men drooling,
the sound at 11,
colored lights blinding,
like a final surprise party at the first step
into an unexpected afterlife.
They’ve earned their way here,
the only gesture left on their journey,
using young, poor women,
a final demonstration of the values
that brought them to this point,
soulless, soon to be shocked
as they trip, horrified finally,
into eternal burning sun and sand.
My guide says, Do you like this place?
No, please, all I want
is to go back to my hotel.
* * * * *
Happy #WriterThursday : ) Today’s writing prompt is
Use the #WritingPrompt to inspire a piece of writing, and then post that piece as a comment below. I would love to read it : )