Party 7

a depiction of
San Francisco in the 70s
flickers on the box
unmarked cop cars
whizz past the palm trees
a metallic brown

the counter culture gave in to funk
golden gate's famous red paint
flaking, in need of re-colour
the morning after the party
bodies everywhere, curtains drawn closed
stale air, nobody's touched the advocaat
we've had it since '77

political chaos
economic decline
success shifted to far off places
leaving destitution behind
and a drug culture
a golden brown

a feather cut and empty Party 7 pack
a Starksky and Hutch toy car
a torch that changed colours
sand dunes and the caravan site
Disco, no more flowers in your hair
not now.