Speakeasy

I was feeling rather lonesome, I was wishing for escape
Work‘s toil wrought my mind and body disgruntled;
Closed up, overworked, under appreciated, ‘tis time
To once again play in the high revelries of fashion
Once again to feel the rhythm of a mirthful eve
Amidst a blaze of laughter, and speech, and color
Swirling and foaming and flowing, the good drink
Which makes the uncomfortable comfortable
Was to be found, they say, at Gatsby’s abode
A titan of a building I appraised as I approached
Where brimming bottles and barrels and glasses
Were consumed by the sap-happy masses
Up the steps and through the portal I went
I passed, it seemed, like a portal into another world,
Some lost, forgotten world, where the tribal
Pulse emanated from the flame they danced around
The flaming intake of alcohol, that burned, yet soothed
In awe of this strange anachronism, yet compelled
I went to the server, and served myself that flame
That so long ago was everywhere, tradition and
Legal to all, yet even then was still humanity’s bane
Over to a beautiful  lady I strode, and smiled
She was analyzing my character and figure: a disguise:
As I spoke to her the many words heretofore unspoken
That for so long persisted in my wishes to confide
To pass on in the minds of others, to free,
Merrily we bade awkward unfamiliarity adieu
Until, with widened eyes and her mouth gasped open
Ecstatically infatuated with my pose and style
Said she “Just shut up and kiss me!”
I felt the softness of her lofty lips, the wetness of her tongue
Long I locked lips with her, elevated by divine emotion
We twisted and spiraled, forgetful of time and place,
Out into the crowed of dancers and musicians
And so tirelessly the night passed on and on
Either drunk with liquor, or drunk with love
Which, in my gleeful mind, seemed unimportant to me
Perhaps a mixture of both, or one more than the other;
Yet the sting and lingering blow of the brew in my head,
After I had bid goodbye to my lovely Jordan
And retreated, as the sun began to wake, into bed,
Persisted and made of that happy dew a vicious poison
Whose momentary relapse did not warrant such after-pain