Gables and crisp gingerbread windows crowd around to see -- what's the show Amsterdam?
Bikes clatter briskly, up and down, over brick and bridge and byway. Learn to dodge or die, city girl.
Sometimes it rains, and we scamper beneath awnings to consult the stars. They are blotted out by the redlights. Not sure if we are lost, or if the streets change beneath our feet -- why lead us astray, Amsterdam?
Sudden whiffs of coffee and cannabis.
Red lights and green lights and blue lights beckon, or warn, or advertise, or excuse. The city is never dark, the city never sleeps.
Aren't you tired, Amsterdam?
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