“Observing Party” by Dennis Perry Clark
Words at random, thoughts abrupt, pontific musings abound. Oh, tales of tall, salivating crescent smiles. Right knows not left for discomfited dancing twits.
Rally the punching bowl, sodden dress flowers, defiled. Closet carnivorous hat-check girl dangling wares, agape gander soon snared.
Voluble reverberations chasten, inescapable droning of the hive, the dogs of war bark. Hugging the walls, eschewing capture as prey from the pillagers.
Boorish bow ties, heeled venomous serpents with glistening painted lips, twilling chinwag as they belly-up. Another potation palliates, courageous liquid personality arisen.
Cloudy chamber pot bustles, blades clicking porcelain, self-medicating spooned septum. Lounge of veracity expounded, girded no more.
Tuneless players sawing tone-battered descants, infected limb movements arouse. Licentious nature glows, pulsating sultry mass of sweaty flesh.
Garish gleam of chandelier stalactites, rounds of eight clothed, serpentine skirted standings of confectionary delights, lipid figure of coagulated water illuminates.
White-gloved silver salvers passing spoor of truffle oil canape`s, shoveling brackish egg of fish toasts. Beasts of land, sea, and air, carte du jour.
Looming hour of the witch, chariots of onion await curdled princesses, shambling suitors stagger behindhand.
Left laggards stow pockets with crustacean, scoffing finger cake, pounding derelict glasses. Last pairing to waltz drift away with the beckoning dawn.
Dennis Perry Clark is a retired chef/aspiring writer. He has authored a cookbook, short stories, and poetry pieces of varied styles. Dennis holds no degree in literature. However, he has an excuse.