Here They Come

They
Have lights
Smoke machines and
Really bright green lasers.
Really fucking bright green lasers.

Mystery and intrigue in the house that funk built!
Disco detectives have their work cut out for them.
There they are, drunk and sprawled over the bar.
Smug. In on some guarded knowledge. Wasted.

Now they’re talking to each other, saying things like
Hey I know this guy, he turns old washing machines
Into electronic musical instruments, wanna see one?
They wander outside to smoke some more cigarettes.

He wants to see one. It would
Be so shockingly fantastic
So utterly brilliant
Heartbreaking,
Even.

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