And the room goes mental………
Bodies slick with sweat
Busting moves, big fish, little fish, cardboard box
And the DJ doing that DJ thing, making salaam to the floor
Enjoying the 100 per cent reliability of all killer, no filler.
Faces are fixed, jaws grinding, mouths drying.
Unwanted cigarettes, burn out in waving hands,
Arms in the air, like you just don’t care
Strangers ricochet against each other, smile, embrace, move on
And all the while the beat goes on,
You are the music and the music is you
You no longer know where the toon begins and where you end
You watch your own hand describe an arc
Transfixed by internal, half understood rhythms
Movement is the only constant
It’s time to burn
It’s time for another pill.