AT THE LOOKALIKE
DISCOTHEQUE
The lanes are wide and narrow
together - all things at one time,
and all in ways that I dislike.
Mirror-balls and noisy calls;
never my style at all. I never
even went inside. Outside, where
the real action was anyway, held
me in thrall : The yellow'd man
I watched was doing a speed-ball,
lurching like a bum already. The
guy one over was slumped like a
death. Cars passed by with no care
at all - interiors oblivious, light to
light. A bouncer lurked, somewhere,
but always looking, too, somewhere
else. Is this how the double world
wanders its work, I wondered?
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