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The party

Sitting amongst a group of people on a Saturday night

and contemplating a festive mood across the sea in a

tropical land.

  The din of people talking

  and f*g smoke in my eye

  No room for even walking

  So hot I want to die.

  This is the modern form of fun

  And no one seems to see

  That sweltering without the sun

  It a waste of time to me.
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Submitted on January 15, 2013

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Neil McLeod Claim this poet

Born in Oxford, raised in Kenya, past winner of Los Slamgeles Poetry Slam and author of abitingchance.blogspot.comand "The First Thanksgiving".Doctor McLeod is a performing poet who has recited at Highland Games, dinners and Burns Nights for the last 36 years. He is happily married, lives and works in Los Angeles,has three children, and practices as a dentist on Sunset Boulevard:http://www.drneilmcleod.com/He can be contacted by e-mail at drneilmcleod@yahoo.com and will willingly entertain requests to share his work with permission. more…

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    "The party" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 28 Jul 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/87483/the-party>.

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