Where do the good girls go
When the velvet ropes
Are stretched and snapped closed
The entrance blocked
Admission denied
After long, their stand, in line
The music in the distance
Danced to by others
The passed buffet bounties
Held back from their hungering lips
The valet parked cars, stacked deep
As it is time to trail on home, alone
With only the sound of their own footsteps
To keep time as time flips then the middle finger
One more time. One last time. How, again, this time
Where do the good girls go
When the velvet ropes
Are seemingly everywhere
Denying them the nightlife, the good life, the right life
Making mocked examples of their desire to be amongst
The laughter, the levity, the luscious leftover looks
In the morning of the night before
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The good girls go where they are appreciated.: -)