Last night we left the theatre, just in time to taste
the bright lights. Bars & clubs, queues of wild eyes,
hungry action, the soul food of back when…
Were we thinking the same thing as you turned & stole
This was our playground, the aroma of a thrill, called
by sirens to sail our little ships on warm electric winds.
Brass, glass, grape & a nicotine breeze. Glutinous colours,
skins prepared, dressed to graze in the black light of
We walked fast, laughing, thinking ‘Home’, watching it all
slide by on the other side, wondering when & how it ever
lost it’s ravishing allure.