"The Wild Party"

[fiefoe]

Queenie was a blonde, and her age stood still,
And she danced twice a day in vaudeville.

Studio;
Bedroom;
Bath;
Kitchenette:
Furnished like a third act passion set:
Oriental;
Sentimental;
They owed two months on the rental.

The shadows leapt:
They rushed forward boldly;
Swept
Triumphant
Across white faces:
Wavered, retreated;
Turned, defeated,
And shrank back to darker places.

Her body was marvellous:
A miracle had fused it:
The whole world had seen it-
And a good part had used it.

The rest were simply repetitions
Of the more notorious. Slim editions:

About two steps more,
They'd have lost their balance
And fallen on the floor.
As it was, the music quavered:
Stopped.
They disengaged slowly:
Their arms dropped.
And she fed him a blurred,
   bewildered glance.  {Much like stage directions, only in rhyme.}

The candles flared: the shadows sprang tall,
Leapt goblin-like from wall to wall;
Excited:
Delighted:
Mimicking those invited.