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Night Club
The last claw at a smile
crampled by walnut bitters from childhood;
that end of a schoolyard day.
This time, no bell saviour,
just a blinding limelight
eclipsed by a hooked hand.
Deaf to the dead audience,
the clatter of their awkward blinks.
The fizzy drinks, at least, happy,
as their bubbles fly
towards the foaming summit
to congregate in love
before their crackle into oblivion
and nostalgia for those old-time comedians.
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