Night at the Brasserie

Night at the Brasserie

Pack them in

Good and tight

Writhing bodies

Move in the night

At the place to be

Just to be seen

Not so much fun

When it’s so full of everyone

Pouting, posturing

Vacant souls on the run

Downing shots

To block out the sun

Pass me the gun

So I can fire a warning shot

High above their heads

In the hope it lands in their heart

And they decide to do the rest.

Ceiling bumps

Ceiling bumps

Ceiling bumps
Scratches and cracks
Listening to favourite
Old tracks

Sleep should come
but on waking goes
Mind wandering
itchy toes

Will sleep come?
Imminently
Waking?
Intermittently

Time flies
in early hours
Faster then
than growing flowers

Mind can rest
we have the power
to relax, float down steam
It's not me, it's our.