PARTY POST-MORTEM

The party passed peacefully

In the late hours of the night.

A friend of a friend clinging to the dark,

Swaddled by the door.

Day breaks

And we emerge

From      

Glitter-stained pillowcases,

Hanging over each other on the 502,

Snaking towards a diner reeking of detergent.

An investigation occurs over cracking vinyl

And scrambled eggs that pack a crunch.

A host of red herrings emerge—

Jello shots from thin January air—

Fire-throwers ignite from the smoker’s pit

A Pepperette ends up

In the dish soap again.

The birthday girl is on a manhunt

For the thief of her disco ball,

The tattered string is all that remains

Hanging ghostly from the chandelier

Invisible until it becomes the only murder weapon.

All you can do is mourn for all those bashed pockets

And take another chaliced sip.

What we can all agree on:

When we crowded ‘round to watch

A girl with an ironic suit and flamed hair

Cleaves the cork off a champagne bottle

The two-handed effort of the sabres thrust

Turned the semi-detached into a Coliseum

A group of once-highschool losers,

Finally risen to glory

Tonight, the lion is inside us all

The cause of death 

Was a long playdoughed goodbye  

When the beasts came out of their 

Caved walk-ups to tell us to shut up already.

A collective ache is already forming for the morning 

As the night becomes a myth.