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Nick Tselepides


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:) I AM BACK HOME IN aTHENS AFTER A MONTH IN CHINA. Flew in via Istanbul yesterday--still have not recovered from jetlag.

But here is a poem I wote there:







Perhaps the oldest Beijing bar, the Den

is a nice place: full of the sleek

loneliness and stolen money of businessmen

but not expensive for its warm

atmosphere. Excellent hamburgers

and pretty Chinese girls and Mongolian

prostitutes. From time to time

a stunning Russian hooker, like tonight,

when Natasha was chatting up an Irishman

and I, feeling charitable, upped her stocks

by telling the guy Russian girls were a thousand

times more beautiful than most nationalities—

a fact I believe in. A well-dressed tall young Englishman

handsome like a film star, reading a novel

and smoking a cigar, pretended he was completely

alone like my cat does in her best moments.

The bouncer, who knows me by now, and pats me

on the back to make sure I come again. He

surveys the room like a revolving air fan

in deep Arkansas humid July evenings, and growls

at the Chinese bar boys every time they do something

wrong. Images of perspiring breasts, taut

and upright and lemon-like, as these pretty

adolescent Chinese girls brush by me. One

is navel-nude and tempts me like the devil—you’d think

a touch with your little finger and she’d give it

all away, though the true story spells money

for whatever the client wants

except taboo untouchables—namely anal contact

and parents knowing. All else goes.

Happy hour is 7 to 10, beer is a dollar and ten cents.

Three bucks for a big hamburger, and the one I had

was the best I’ve had in my life. Women I did not

have any—they are better to watch and talk to

in this tropical winter weather. A French woman, 2 meters

tall and long-legged, long dark brown hair, who works

at her embassy, smiled to me widely and twice

and winked at me but I missed my chance and by the time

I was ready she was on her way out, and

had gone off into the night. Having been 3 times here

I am a “regular”, and my passport is known

to the waitresses—all polite, civilized, and not whores.

Just working girls, like the other working girls

who charge money for love. If you come here

on the off-chance, you should expect the best

but do not be surprised if nothing happens in the end.

If it happens, go for it head and toes, and be sure

you will survive and come out wiser. If you are a lady--

navel-nude or dressed thickly to the gills, pierced or unpierced

ears--and smile, some man will catch up with you in the end

and catch himself too in the process and

you will have a good time. Everyone here

means well and there are cases of happy marriages

which started out here. Midnight, I flag a taxi down and head

home, through Beijing fog and lights, to write, cut and paste

undo and redo all this, delete and send to the bin, and recover

it all for you, in the silence of my room, with the full moon

In the sky, and with many pairs of beautiful eyes looking at me

from the Den as past history. Flying home tomorrow night.




25th Jan. 05

Beijing, China, in memory of the “Den” Bar

Nikos Tselepides


More soon, friends.

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Nick,Glad you made it back O.K. good to have ya back here at Biohaz.Look forward to details and pictures from your trip.

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That was an awesome story.. I wish I could check that place out!

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