Loud voices usher in
Smeared lipstick,
Hair lifted to stand on end,
Clothing choices
Questionable at best.
Waiting,
Waiting,
Waiting.
Midnight approaches,
Bringing her children
Into her arms,
And releases them to the Night.
More loud voices match The Night’s,
And laughter
Permeates any trace of chill.
A world of vulgar brotherly love
Is opened,
Exploited,
And explored.
Allison,
ReplyDeleteAs soon as I started reading this poem I was grinning thinking about our many times going to The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
What a beautiful Poet you have become.
I love you,
Auntie Jodi