PARTY ON

Balloons are blown up, fully inflated
Helium for further chipmunk voice
A rainbow colours of tense rubber
Like breasts in a bra too small

Streamers like neon tagliatelle: Al dente
Party poppers primed, like glitter grenades
Gaudy celebratory banners well-hung
Party bags stuffed with purvey

Table heaving under the pressure
Of rich and heavy party comestibles
Ice cream and jelly, frozen and wobbling
Chocolate brownies are uniformed

I am jealous of the chicken legs
Various pizzas are in a leaning tower
A pile of sausage rolls remain stationary
Salad available but I didn't give a toss

Anticipatory anticipation anticipated
Excitement builds to a crescendo
My jeans are ready to bust
Let’s get this party started

It’s eleven o’clock: I am dancing on my own
The party should have started at seven
No guests arriving any time soon
During this time it’s illegal to have a party

Singing along to “My Sharona” by ‘The Knack.’
Changing the lyrics to my Corona; it may go viral
Handcuffed and shackled, locked down
Not behind bars, they are all closed

The Isle of Bute has been renamed: Alcatraz
The lack of human interaction driving me insane
Hugging is now breaking the law: Criminalised
Thought of morbidity are now commonplace

I leave the party set out for three months
Just in case the doorbell “Ding Dongs.”
But it doesn’t; not a ding or as much as a dong
I am still sitting alone after six months

The smell of rancid party food
Is blanketed under green and black fur
I am blanketed deeply in suicidal sadness
Party razors rather than party favours

Bathtub conversion to pink gin
I apply a cutting wit
Red wine like tears are flowing
The question is:

“Do I party on?”