Thursday night in spring
My DJ set at St Jerome’s
The place where we all go
Hang out
Drink
And smoke
Full of hipsters, hustlers and musicians
Faces of young artists
Against the painted walls of graffiti and piss
The night air in full bloom
Friends gathered together in sexual unison
Wearing Jack London knock-offs
Tight jeans, and leather soled boots
Heads bopping to the beats I dish
Rhythm by rhythm, groove by groove
A peaceful dance, in shadowy moves
Next to the wet, dripping unisex toilets
Finishing my set for DJ Teddy to start
Headed to the bar to get my fill
And there she stood, bright smile: angelic
“Hey, it’s my birthday!” she said so proudly
She took me to the concrete floor
In the middle of the buzzed up crowd
Eyes on acid, sweat of MDMA
And we danced like Michael Stipe on heat
Under the blurry midnight starsRiccardo pumping ‘90s melodies
And modern tribal beats
Her friend caved in and could not keep it in any longer
So we sat on the front bench and talked
While 1am walked in with weary eyed revellers
Her friend needed to leave and rest
So I found them a taxi waiting to roll, ‘next Macca’s’
‘Jerome’s.’ She winked, ‘I’ll come here again’
With a quick peck on the cheek, in vain I asked
For her name
‘Malorie,’ she smiled again
