The Roaring 20s

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The melodic swirling of those dresses
The soft padding of feet on the fringe of the floor
The enveloping, swirling, intoxicating
Poison that clings to the air
As couples cling hands
And sway
Sway
Sway to the delicate beat
That reminds you of that delicate pastry
What’s it name
The name escapes you
Your thoughts are mingled
And trampled and revulsed
In the harsh lapping of the pool
And the ocean,
Only several feet away
The tide pulls you in
And you are dancing
Dancing some glorious dance
Heat dripping down your back
Cheeks rosy-ing
You sit on one of those lounge chairs
The bright pink one
And listen to the lulling sound of gossip…
So familiar
And the tender notes
Of a couple floating by
Lotus.
Surely the lotus
Made me feel this way
Equilibrium off
Head turned slightly to the left
Head pounding in rhythm to the bass
The world far away
…perhaps it is the party…
And…the melodic swirling… of those dresses
And the… soft padding of feet… on the fringe of the floor
…After all…it is the roaring 20s





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