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The Wednesday Poem
'Goodnight' by Guy Gibbs
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Guy Gibbs
12 March 2008
Bright beams of light bounce off white walls
In time with bass and with bodies.
Unnatural bleach-blonde, straightened-long hair
Changes to garish, supernatural pink
And your thinking is slowing with each
Cut-price drink. You begin to believe
That you couldn’t leave
Without her over there coming too.
You’re glued to her movement;
Serpentine, shimmying under the lights,
Swimming through sweat, twisting her neck
To the roof. To the decks that the DJ patrols
With which he controls
A few hundred souls for hours at a time.
More, standing in line outside in the dark
Badger men dressed in black to get into the place.
Here’s where kids trying too hard
Rub up in the dark with those who don’t try
Hard enough; and think that they’re falling in love.
Feel like they’re beating the world.
Spend a week's wages to impress some girl
Who leaves after midnight
While you’re at the bar. The bass
Quickly drowns out your deflated heart
Which is used to this stuff—gets stuffed
Every weekend—its easy to pretend
You couldn’t care less when you’re dead
Drunk and dead tired and still hours from your bed.
The Wednesday Poem is provided by Read This magazine
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