Under bright and blinky neon lights, in the watch of bouncers

Long queues are formed at places of luxury, fun and some

One cannot tell the dresscode, there doesn’t appear to be some

All in all, all are well dressed, well some are flaunting some

If you were to judge, they’d all look good, well, at least some do

§

In places like this, more paper changes hands in the night

than in broad daylight, from greasing the doorman to avoid a lineup

to buying the most expensive, and sparkling drinks and cigar line ups

Forget the cloak room, by the time you are tipsy, it flows faster than red

And you start thinking they all look good, at least now most of them do

§

Check them out, now that your eyes are bold and turning red

They wink at you and mostly look like they are dressed in red

Wink back but you ain’t tipsy enough to follow the red

Out of pity, the waiter drops you more shots of red

They all look good, at least because they are dressed in red

§

Now that your vision is blurred, images form mostly from imagination

One in a mini appears naked, and you visualize, what a creation

Another on heels, makes you look for tips, what a temptation

One looks at you and smiles, you think she likes you, what a sensation

With more reds, in your brain, even without imagination, they all look good

§

If wishes were horses, beggars would ride, drunks would walk without a stagger

He chats titbits to those who pass by, follow he cannot for he will stagger

Interestingly one walks towards him, red lips, a deceitful smile, and a swagger

She pulls out a red, signals to the waiter, he is caught up in her confident manner

But she looks good, time for reasonable judgement has passed, she looks great

§

Too many reds, in glasses, around you and on the dance floor,

He makes a toast, it will bring the red closer, the reds give a whim

He wants to play polka with this red, but the reds have played tricks on him

Lights blink red and out and she inches closer, the reds are overwhelming

This close, they look good, they cannot get any redder, they are great

§

The music dies and the reds stop flowing, the river has dried up

This red looks good, with red eyes, red lips and on red heels

Not much was said, not much inches in between, only red feelings

Hand in hand they make out, a blind leads the other to a world unknown

Since none can think straight, they all look good, a surprise awaits