Sex, Dance, Sweaty Jives, Saturday Night

(I.M. The Oasis Club 1973 – 1991)

We’re glazed like bright-lit shop windows,

showing goods, make transactions, 

make eye contact, make a bargain, 

deal a hand–

incantations, invocations, gods of chance, 

gods of luck, let me this night get a fuck,

let me this night not go home alone,

let me into the secret, let me into his bed.

Rubbing shoulders in this labyrinth,

down a side path, branching

passages, dead end desires, smell

of poppers on their breath.

An old man at the bar mourns and moans.

He slept with ballet dancers.

He was graceful, he was loved. 

Young drunk guy, thrown

out by his boyfriend– 

tonight he’ll sleep in his car.

That guy who looked you over last week– 

Murdered. 

Sweat, shake, dance, 

hope to meet

hope to wake next to 

a warm body.