In the merry month of May

damsels trip the night away,

but bouncers always man the doors

we have to face the pavement laws.

In those maypole clubs we see

dresses worn above the knee.

Mead doth flow and pulses race

in time to alcohol's disgrace.

Guarding the dawn of townscape sky

the high viz presence

 

where she lies.

skirt and thighs a waxy separation

then they take her to the station

and tight - lipped check for menstruation.