boys in bands

shrouded by mosh pit limbs and a midnight blue velvet jacket pre-rolled darts in a silver case in the right hand pocket lighter and lipstick in the left i scribble notes for street press for unpaid unofficial underground apprenticeship pick up the bassist and back to his where he performs his nonconformity by declaring love for skinny puppy and rude boy boots he has a foot fetish and my high arches appeal in their filthy black patent stiletto heels i get bored during foreplay stare at the unwashed jeans on the floor the smoke stained paintwork the sex pistols poster that is on every wall of every boy in every band in every white city every morning the reel to reel soundscape of the third bus home sixth bus to work dishwasher knife in hand scripted good mornings double shot lattes for double breasted suits they were boys in bands once too now second life mortgage marriage measuring up making do i mend them with a smile clock off scribe copy ignore the bassist save something for tomorrow sit out the first song