The Party

[Stinkyfinger]

A Spoonful of Raspberry Jam, Compliments of Elvis, the flier
announced, one of many scattered about, the remains of a determined
horde of epicureans, hedonists, and shithead glitterati;
Appearring out of the night, an ephemeral delight, in rags,
primal and raw, an eclectic collection of the fearful and subdued, the tearful and out of control, converged as one;
Lost souls, all, beckoned by promises of a glimpse of the
divine-maybe this time, perhaps, never at all-came, at once,
from every corner of the contemporary; coughed up and cast
out, the mystic revelers arrived, bent on deicide and fraternity, to the two stories of vice, the carefree paradise;
The building, stained by mildew and wretched disrepair, was proof of inevitable mortality and morbid decay;(a Firehouse,
turned Playhouse, turned Dionysiac Display);
Donations at the door, please, the regent knew the score,
he's down, you know, with all manner of disarray;
High-fives and hugs greeted the awkward and unprepared;
The screams from within, harbingers of an unfamiliar amour,
blistered the night, bringing gawkers, starers, laughing and
curious ghosts, and everywhere, in and out of shadow, the
ferocious determination of dance, a single-minded prance of
exuberant pretense;
The music was alive and pulsating, like serpents writhing in
concordant frenzy; it crept invitingly close to the edge of
melodic insanity, driving bodies to the brink of spontaneous
joy, breathing into the air, itself, soul and salvation;
In the fringe, in bold disguise, the dispossessed and obtuse ran ragged and unopposed, pouncing on stray sheep,
advertising ass and infinite naivety; and, scattered
throughout, storming with purpose and indifference, the
'wassup' brigade searched everywhere for apothecaries in
residence, relentlessly, honing in on 'fucked-up-dazzle-eyed-
sell-my-soul' apostates-'watcha need' the anthem of greed,
filling all the corners and crannies-
Sweat and smiles, rubble in piles, feminine wiles, "Let's
stay for awhile," someone screamed, unheard above the fray;
everything moved, a large liquid mass of activity and need;
preparing for something..anything..the unknown eventuality,
the faint-hearted admirers of tomorrow took their cue from
the looks of confusion and desperation, and gave up their
stations;
Dwindling fast, now a thing of the past, the penitant
predators sought dawn and duty to excuse themselves from
further scorn;
Leaving like frantic children escaping nighttime terror or
rebuke, they were dismissed with laughter; "no problem, the
jokes on them, 'the Party,' it seems, was a brilliant
success;"
Staring at one another, wide-eyed and still tripping, the hosts filed
out slowly into the street to contemplate their
losses, finding none they had another beer, and then,
'fuck it,' they had another.

[stilltrucking]

truly beautiful

I had to pause at penitent predators and go back and pick it up again.
I did not read the poem as much as I inhaled it with a couple of snorts and grins and shocks of recognition.

welcome to the monky house new guy

[Stinkyfinger]

Oh yeah,....oops. Thanks for the read and welcome.

[stilltrucking]

It was a Great poem. That is all that matters. Thank you

I don't get embarrassed much anymore. One of the blessings of longevity.

But you know old folks still like to party too.


I appreciate the poem, a thrill to read.
.

[SmileGRL]

i liked

A Spoonful of Raspberry Jam, Compliments of Elvis

and

The music was alive and pulsating, like serpents writhing in
concordant frenzy; it crept invitingly close to the edge of
melodic insanity, driving bodies to the brink of spontaneous
joy, breathing into the air, itself, soul and salvation