Happy New Year - JLG Clift

"5"

This is it this is the time to change among the free range ravers cheering the guys and girls leering towards each other peering across through scarcely parting lips as the beats drip down from the surround sound in the dark of the rafters to the ground.

 The new year. A new year. Another year.

"4"

 This’ll be the one that you’ll ditch the beer and the blow this’ll be the one where you really go for it you know this’ll be the one where no foe will go unchallenged this’ll be the one where you kill it where you crush it where you own it where you tone it that’ll start once you’ve stopped zoning out in the peach paste of fresh puke and Teachers that you’re semi slumped in swigging from a bottle of gin with a girl at the back in the black off the floor no light no sight you touch you make out you go further it feels alright kissing strangers at midnight skipping songs sound like shredded kites in high winds you don’t know the girl you met her tonight but she doesn’t say no she’s like you alone so painfully free of someone to be with just trying to fit in because the lie feels better than the skin beneath the net of her YOLO shirt sweaty and stale and yours much the same cold and pale so frail for the fake of this frantic affection so desperate for some small kind of connection that her fingertips remain in red threading through the writhing hands raking shaking from the speed and the cold on the old of warehouse ground your own rhythm out of sync with the pumping sound that everyone else is dry humping too.

And resolutions repeat and records revolve and another year continues to dissolve. 

"3"

No one knows you’re not together forever not even you because you’re lost lying down concussed comatose ghosts in dank drainpipes on the edge black on white at the edge of a dance floor away from the roar of the real couples on New Year’s Night what a sight to see but what a thing it would be to feel something more than the undoing of zips and the mush of loose lips and the flesh you grip as you tip back into the tar down to the ground the thud of your head splitting inaudibly fluids running white red and clear steering and stirring through the cracks soaking into the black the grit and grain and the stains on the hard of your bed and still the resolutions in your heads go on the strobes shifting white to blue to red your shadows spilling into each other in the light your actions out of sight your thoughts on loan with your hearts so you don’t start to feel alone.

And nothing is resolved and you greet another groin and the meat still feels cold.

"2"

The resolutions rendered amid quaking bass and drunken mistakes the solutions you make to combat all the pollution in your life the scalpel that shreds through all that social strife created to make sure you can do what you tell yourself to do this time find that girl get that grade make your life something more than simply something surface you swear you’ll search for the deep for the raw for the real you say you’ll feel better than before to yourself in a storm of roars from the ravers on the dance floor who all agree that this year will bring more than the one before but with the grit in your back and the gash in your head and the sleet of another loaner on that rescinding boner all you feel is the slack of another lived summer cumming to nothing and the fear.

 The New Fear. A New Fear. Another new fear.

"1"

This is it this is the time to change rising from climax re-joining the free range ravers cheering the guys and girls leering towards each other feeling strange and estranged peering through parting lips as the beats drip down from the chorale of sound in the dark of the rafters to see the girl from the ground. But you never do and are left standing alone. Pink strobes turning to blue.

"Happy New Year".