Entertainment

Meet NYC’s Poetry ‘Whores’

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Meet New York City's poetry whores: men and women willing to expose their most intimate parts -- their words -- in exchange for cold, hard cash. They ply their trade exclusively at traveling monthly "poetry brothels." In the spirit of a 19th-century salon, "johns" enjoy live music, fortunetelling and, of course, private readings from the poet of their choice. A reading typically costs $10, but the whores set their own prices, and some don't come cheap.Here is a selection of just some of the whores who will be working an upcoming poetry brothel this Friday in Bushwick. See thepoetrybrothel.com for details.

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Poetry whore The Madame (aka Stephanie Berger) reads from his/her sultry poetry stash at Aspen Social Club in Midtown"I would poison you / but not to death / to something else."

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Poetry whore Le Petite Mort (aka Joey Cannizzaro) reads from his/her sultry poetry stash at Aspen Social Club in Midtown"In the grave I have sharkeyes / and a spider weights a web from my pupil to my hangedman's shame."

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Poetry whore The Car Sargasso (aka Christie Ann Reynolds) reads from his/her sultry poetry stash at Aspen Social Club in Midtown"I commit to being defective. I invest / in precise motivations of sorrow, if you change, / It will all be like the horse head on the wall / Absent galloping / Our lives will be like the shattered tea cup/ gleaming/ even in deathlight."

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Poetry whore Tennessee Pink (a k a Nicholas Adamski) reads from his/her sultry poetry stash at Aspen Social Club in Midtown"I look into the kitchen / and see your body, not a ghost / If you're dead, you should change / Your face should be / more elusive."

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Poetry whore The Professor (aka Jennifer Michael Hecht) reads from his/her sultry poetry stash at Aspen Social Club in Midtown"Tonight there must be people who are getting what they want / I let my oars fall into the water / Good for them. Good for them, getting what they want."

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Poetry whore Oola Waistbinder (aka Sarah Autumn Feeley) reads from his/her sultry poetry stash at Aspen Social Club in Midtown"When we were nurses, quick on our pony click heels, unafraid of the fluids inside men, I developed double time memories: here is my patient, here I am lying on the divan with my thighs around my patient."