Twenties

In the sleep between the wars,
in the fog of sulphur slumber,
we float, breath heavy with ethanol and forget.
Money is free, like petrol fumes
like... a memory
of irrational hatred
of manipulation by the media.

We drown in happy platitude.
We better fellows with half-minds
drift, scarred by an unknown pox.
Life is free, like petrol fumes
like... a memory
of an imperial navy and
so white teeth so white.

Let's dance the Charlston.
Let's drink champagne.
Let's spend the night together.
Let's enjoy the river of gold.