23 April, 2012

In Da Club

Lasers spotting tight shirts and thin skirts
celebrate late-night devilry.

The lonesome drug-lord, stoically dances alone,
until his princess comes to entice his heart.

The serial killer plows and pouts to endless beats,
inviting prey to partner with his strange moves.

There are preppy types and glamazon,
hipsters and octopi, but no one dances alone.

With the disco-ball smoke and the strobe-lighting moods,
the club forgives no one but embraces all.

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