Everywhere,
When the lights go out.
Fast too.
They smile at me like my cocaine friends.
At night you can hear them flitting about,
And talking like a Fitzgerald yarn.
They laugh,
And stand as men stand and lie about as women lie.
They’re funny these fish and they know it.
Antennae slicked like Bogey, cracking wise,
Females boasting alloy chests and Dietrich furs.
They make gay and drink gin in crystal,
Chink glasses and spill on the floor.
Bodies rubbing lithely.
Basie?
Nothing else exists, not tonight.
Not for them,
Not for me.
I’d join them,
I would,
But what to say?