The Circus

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Die hard hipsters
Wildly clinging to images of 
Regaling epic fables
Lost inside weed infested minds
Grazing shoulders with the
Super cool young things
Franticly plunging ahead 
Towards perceived sophistication
Bearded dudes 
Heads cocked at a jaunty angle
Whiskey in hand, lust in their eyes 
Just one sip away
Painted princesses
With vodka smeared lipstick and beguiling costumes
Stealing glances in the direction
Of anticipated adulation
Dreamy trumpets from bygone days
Colliding with breakbeats
Deliciously intoxicating
Across dance floors
Bodies blending
Contorting in need 
Cheeks flushed 
From a desire to complete
Glorious in their absurdity 
Pretension festers 
Brilliance diminished
Hidden within conformity 
And a compulsion to submit
It's Friday Night
The pressure is on 
To 'be seen'
Where intention is necessary
But the encounter 

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Vicki Ayers

Sun 17th Jan 2016 19:00

Thank you both - I appreciate your comments!
Martin I'm pleased you were able to feel all that - my job is done! And Tommy ...... to fathom is indeed to live - I'm glad you liked it! X

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Tommy Carroll

Sun 17th Jan 2016 18:04

This I like. To fathom is to live, and this shakes a finger at the likes of me; stood watching this event is akin to the being, the ridiculous posture that we assume.
Such eyes as yours should be shaded. Tommy

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Martin Elder

Sun 17th Jan 2016 16:13

Fabulous Vicki, I can feel the throbbing beat, the sweat, the intensity of the moment. Great poem

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