literature

which way

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Literature Text

the speakers are blaring
      right beside me at all times it seems.
the room’s so thick I have to straddle the air.
there are people every-which-way-where.
bodies are waving and smiling, I think they know me,
   its far too crowded here ... you get so lonely.
that box of bottles looks heavenly from the bottom of my whisky glass.
chairs line the walls and girls are falling on call
   to the floor, through the doors, on the bed, every-which-way-where the boys take them.
I came here in a Ford
   I came here with friends ...
        I came here with beer
           I came here with pants ...
the bodies dance, arms flailing every-which-way-where in the air.
chairs line the walls
  empty like too many of the entities at this orgy of booze and boobs and car-keys and shoes.
    all of which are in piles atop the miles of sweat and laughter.
some of their tickers are pulsing at the speed of nearly convulsing,
        arms flailing every-which-way-where, trying to guide their consciousness down the stairs.
and then im staring at the carpet wondering how in hell I swallowed so much deja-vu.
we’re having a blast,
          where the fuck are you?
living the good life ... ?
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