why dontchya’
spend yourself around
in here.
It’s fun. It’s
loud. Crowded.
Dark.
We’ve got drink.
We’ve got
music.
We’ve got things
we really oughtn’t say.
Don’t listen to your friends.
they don’t know what’s fun.
I can show you
around the block--
walk a few miles
with me, and sunbathe in synthetic
glory;
don’t forget your shades.
I can wrap you up
and keep you hot
in a blazing red-hot coil.
I’ll keep you stiff,
like a crashed test dummy
starting at the wall
thinking of the time he’d lost
before he blew it all.
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