Nightchildren

It was August ’87 and we were invincible phantoms of sequins and smoke bathed in strobeflash writhing thrashing headbanging to glamrock hair metal peroxide blondes with faux-hawks and kabuki makeup taking drags on their joints all safety pins and leather leggings swaying boyish hips to the pulse in the marijuana haze shaken with vodka and everclear swigged by rockstar wannabe renegades eyes glazed over by the mirrorball foreheads beading droplets of neon panting gyrating hips grinding against young things in demibras pumped with silicone chemicals and hairspray body heat choking deafening slicked in leather-tinged sweat clash of metal against heavy metal in the orgiastic blur of narcotics and blood the young and immortal quick never dead— fuck we were invincible.