The Party

I am drunk, but I still wanna groove
Faces in their glassy boxes wink
At the light while I grind and move
to the music, not much the worse for drink

The overdone hostess pats her hair
and sees, yawning surreptitiously
a bitch in black with her legs out there
Blonde, touching the cute boy’s knee

Me, I let the loud pounding beats blur
a rather dubious tune. The variations
I make on four square steps occur
to most as odd manipulations

Or something better left alone.
They all suffer, I know that they do.
With malice I add more steps of my own
and play all the repeats right through

I am now expected to perform
a strip?! Something crazy, they plead.
But the drugs are out, the drinks grow warm
and one ravenous guest would like to eat

Sober, I’m inclined to gloom
Drunk, I become a sacred clown
I puff and pound and shake the room
An ill placed ornament falls down

A pause. Laughs, coughs, the hostess claps
wrongly, there’s still much more to say
The bitch leads the boy out back perhaps
and forever they boldly sneak away

The Party

AnnaPerenna

Katoomba, Australia

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Artwork Comments

  • burntblue
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