Party Girl - May 2020

Catherine Heath

May 2020

A frightening intensity 

Is just how we like it––

She might be a banshee,


And everyone is running away

(Afraid to have fun,


Blazing through the parties,

Like some devil––

Flirting with all the men,

And drinking rum.

Fancy dress costumes,

Or prostitutes in disguise?

We have no idea,

And to our surprise,

We don’t care.

You think she might be mental,

Since she doesn’t give a hoot 

What anyone thinks––

And she drinks,


And smokes,

Somewhat like a man,

And wears boots

That make loud noises

On the floorboards.

That’s because she loves men,

And they care for her,

Like no one else––

Like she cares for her friends,

Who didn’t realise

She wants to be loved in return.

Boyfriends and best friends,

We were party animals––

You were my guide,

Through the endless maze

Of drink and drugs

(Half-remembered hugs

In the dim velvet shroud

Of the emerging morning light).

She didn’t care for books,

Or dull looks in the library––

What else did you think

We were at university for,

But getting drunk on life,

Rebelling against society,

Partying all night

And lazing on the common all day,

Our hazy blue cigarette smoke

Curling up towards the sky?

And we never want to say goodbye,

But goodbye 

Is not good day.

We’ll always be this way,

You and I––

Because we are the devils

That stalk the corridors

Of stale universities,

Shaking up everyone

(Making the girls cry)

And the other lads

Look on in awe––

Jealous that they are not in our gang,

Because they use girls

(And stab other men

In the back).

Are they an incestuous commune,

They wondered––

Those boys and girls,

Living together,

Utterly fulfilled

And gratified 

To be part of a gender neutral family,

Laughing and cavorting;

Throwing wild raves,

And kicking everyone out when we’re done,

So we can all

Retire to our own beds. 

Drugs were a means to an end––

A route to enlightenment,

Or madness––

We hardly care which––

She might be a witch!

Her loud cackle heard on the third floor,

But we adore her

When she bakes us cakes,

And cuddles us when we’re sad

(Even though we pretended 

We were just having a party).

Frightened she might float away,

You hold on to her legs,

Which makes her laugh––

And we both rise,


High on the wind,

Where we can see everything––

A bird’s eye view 

Of eternity––

Just you and me,

Elated and free,

For all time.

You were a party girl

(But I was just visiting)

Looking for fun,

And all the hot men.

Then when the party was finally over,

I took home the best one.

Credit: Photo by sheri silver on Unsplash