LAST NIGHT IN IBIZA:

“You’re crazy!”
said the blonde with the razor fringe as I slipped away 
last night & grinned. I took it as a compliment in passing 
slipping in to the radiance of back stage faces. A beautiful 
way to pass the time with friends & body buzzing though two 
hours before it craved sleep as we hit the stage at 3:30am – 
the kick drum gets me in the end. Hands raised in the air, 
smiles & screams & whistles – all the girls & all the boys 
look beautiful.  
Drying off as we drove through empty streets, let the energy 
of the occasion percolate in silence as we sat on the hotel 
roof, waiting for the sun with cameras & chilled expressions. 
The moon was a thin slice of Lemon as we laughed, high on that 
after-groove that only a night in Space could induce. 
The party was still rockin’ as we reached breakfast.
No one had been to bed, you could see in their expressions. 
Luminous eyes, glasses clinked like wind chimes, the speed of 
conversation a clear indication that the kick drum had did it’s 
business dealing sweet preparations.

Now
back through the sky hole we go jumping
London
& the green fields of Essex calling

Thank you Ibiza!

(K)