PUNK POETRY: Club Loving by T.L. Riddle

club loving

queer love is in the club

not in lips or not there touches

but in the hazy smoke and sequins

shining signals like lighthouses

I’m here I’m here I’m here

existing free past eight and

under 20, drinking life from

glitter food trucks and neon

nine inch heels, the love in the

air sinks deep in the pockets

of too-loose pants and too-soon

tender, like happy hour in the

bass line of a song that is

supposed to have more words,

yelling and not being heard but not

caring, the man with the cigarette

in the brick-walled corner

like staring like watching the youth

but no blame is there, even boredom,

even the astro-turf asks less

questions than this, and when

all answers are found, the brightest

smile comes from the twink in

tiny shorts on that stage where

we found first life in the night.

--T.L. Riddle