The Party

Matt McBride

Between the first and last letter
of users' names
the website put asterisks, 
making everyone a unique obscenity. 
Our dreams are omnipresent 
shadows, growing, molding 
at the edges 
as we move closer to light sources. 
The music always Donna Summer
and the way she makes love last 
four syllables. 
What isn't made better
by scales of sequins? 
Push the tempo a little faster 
than can be sung to. 
This world will never 
be big enough for itself.