The Elephant in the Room

The party kicks off,

the lights twinkle, party guests mingle,

the punch bowl glistens, blowing crimson kisses

at each and every parched passerby, whether rowdy, shy, or single.

The dance floor is electric,

chalked footprints pepper the floor,

the air is thick with sweat and hot breaths,

not one person looks to the door.

The snacks are a hit, we spared no expense,

every slice of cake, piece of candy,

crisp pickle from the jar, cheese and cracker stack,

devoured, washed down with punch, gin or brandy.

No one notices the monster on the ceiling.

Glasses are greedily refilled,

plates flooded with appetizers and desserts,

people stuff their faces

and fill their bellies till it hurts.

The music grows louder,

the cluster of swaying, dancing bodies forming a chaotic mass,

heels click on the floorboards, laughter carries over heads,

there's no care in the world, no notions of restraint of class.

The hours tick by,

but the dizzying party carries on,

dazzling dresses twirl and spin, bachelor's ties mangled, hair jostled

as the night owls flit about til dawn.

Finally, the bottles are corked,

trash is thrown, lost jewelry collected,

the party is over, exhausted guests take their leave

and that is that—nothing unexpected.