Perched upon high I look down from the balcony
a wet t-shirt contest is in progress
moist skin
sweaty jeering

I ask myself if its wrong in the modern age to get your tits out for the lads
yet I guess its not too hard nowadays for a woman to be an object
in a dignified way

Iggy sang about nightclubbing with pious androgyny
all around me clusters of men
gather around a couple of women
stalking their prey like we are on safari about to observe the hunt and the kill
in reality we watch the pursuit of cunt fuelled by pills, pints and a distinct lack of will.

One day we might grow out of the shameful phase
and settle down to still water and flower beds
holding our green watering cans

Today we are content with whats on display
exposed nipples
a snapshot of societal decay?
who cares
right now its all about getting wasted
and attempting to get laid