working the bar.

[billy]

A double helix of smoke spiralled
up from behind well manicured fingers
their pink shock of varnish, contrasted
the black shine of Gothic lip gloss.
Dim lights and cotton trousers couldn't hide
a stiffening from her heterochromic gaze.
She fixated on it, dripping me a smile.

For most of the night we chair danced
not chancing a corporeal touch we posed
and postured. prettifying the night owls
casual in all sense of the word, plying
transmogrified coke heads working the floor.
Saturday night delighters on the run
from two point three screamers locked up at home.

I waited for the ball hefting gangsters,
pretty soon they'd all scratched a passage
through the crowd to stand there iconically;
expecting gifts of flesh and gratitude
She diffused them with a wave of hand
At the evenings end she called me over
"Give yer dad a lift to lock up" she said.

---

i rushed this because ive not done one for a while, (i'm not making excuses) so i'm prepared to actually workshop the bugger quite a bit.