Crush

Diary of a prude.

The night sky’s black as an abyss

The air is rancid with cannabis -

You scream into my ear, over all the noise

Booze on your breath, and in your voice

You sidle closer, swing your hips,

Drag at the cigarette in your lips -

We’re just two leaves amidst the brush;

Sweaty bodies in the crush.

 

I'm here, dancing with whatsername

Taking shots with whatsisface

Getting high at whatsthisplace;

I'm rising, or am I sinking?

I don’t know what the f**k I'm drinking

I order more drinks for the whole room

And this girl’s making my pants sore;

Murder on the dance floor -

Audubon ballroom.

 

I extract myself from the crush of bodies

And what are we?

Higher than the rafters

Ringing with hollow laughter

Heady from the blunts

And lust.

Just for whom am I performing?

There is nothing here for me

It’s already stuffy enough

Without me.

 

I mill about the fringes,

Envy the orgies and the binges;

Listen with secret relish

To the tales that they embellish

Of the capers and revelries

That my chafe my conscience so…

Is it shyness, fear, or what?

I shrink from the booze and pot

Shrink against the wall, and watch…

 

The crush rolls and undulates

Like storm-waves upon a lake

And how the waters love it!

I'm like an osprey, high above it

Making endless, aimless circles

Gawking at its marvels;

Tracing the borders of the ’floor

Like a shore…

 

“Come back and dance with me,” she says

I smile and shake my head

Soon she is swallowed in the rush

Of the crush.