After Party

Alexander Cohen
Sep 9, 2018 · 1 min read

Should have shaved he thought
But would it have made a difference?
It had been dark dim blue
swamp like and sweaty
so almost definitely not
so it wouldn’t have mattered.
The tie went well with the
jacket and with the shirt and
the shoes and with the orange bliss
of Watford under two or three
dimly lit stars. Must have been
four hundred maybe less probably
less still plenty of choice for them
all stare and spray various
scents onto cheeks to be licked
down and up brushed and
grabbed with eyes closed
deep in concertation, focus.
The bass beats alive pumping
berserk around the room
quivering out onto the street
to entice aliens on their
various adventures. “After party
at McDonalds”. Forget what
a sober morning tastes like
and find a loose tenner on the
floor amongst coats unloved
for the evening until those
fleeting soul mates disappear
found comfort again in his
branded sweatshop masterpiece.
A large fries to soak in the
alcohols ingested and fermenting.
He would feel little in the morning
but she would feel less.

Alexander Cohen

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