There are two
sides to the light fantastic.
Inside,men
tipsy and thin as drainpipes,
right as
ninepence in the dim balcony.
Outside,women
worried and watch clocking,
now the soft
queue shuffle has given way
to the hard
tap of late stilettoes.
Rolled
between them like a thin cigarette
the escape
committee convenes weakly
not knowing
that forty years on
the mirror
ball will find them all
older and no
wiser in it’s new home.
Tony Noon
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