Dashings of utter delight
A Manhattan night like no other, fairy dust
The proud-as-punch mother stood forever in place
A disgraced, still-distant and sombre-faced father
My peripheral lamb to the slaughter
White wine on the absolute rocks
Pretty party-girls dressed in nothing but lilac frocks
A sly and telling wink directed at me courtesy of the masses
Blasphemous stuff perhaps, but I just don’t care anymore
Finally, I get to open-shut that ferocious door
Forever fearful of a backdraft like no other