Works Night Out

It’s not called a disco anymore

It’s a club

A works do coerced me

I’m too old to be young at heart

My prejudices are like tattoos

So I pretended not to be me

 

The music was so loud

I stopped hearing it

The swirling lights

Became a daze

I watched men staring

Whilst the women grazed

 

The slave auction was yet to begin

 

The young drink so much more

Drinks look like chemical inventions

Spirits are swallowed in relays

Dancing became gymnastics

Women moving

As if elastic

 

It felt like I was crashing

Into speeding rainbows

Made of tin

Such was the din

I did not want to see

Daylight before reaching my pillow

 

Women seem to wear less clothes

Not that I was staring

Sweat and noise

Not much poise

The old days of disco have gone

 

I left early

There was not much I could learn

From watching young people

Crash and burn

Like I once did

Many years ago

 

I am too old

To be so bold

At thirty five……

 

©JMcN 2014