The mansion was for hosting parties
Low ceiling living room
Few windows
Long colorful sofas
Overfilled with cushions
Still warm from yesterdays party
That finished early this morning
Nothing had any symmetry
The restrooms were like tombs
A sense that anyone attending these parties
Was admitting a certain disdain for their life
The usual cocktail of drugs
With atleast one local surprise
How excess and disaster make such likely brothers
Usually turning up and reeking havoc together
One advising the other to join
By that time the hosts are elsewhere
far from the ambulance sirens
Or the screams of some fabulous drama
Only there at the beginning
To welcome you in like parents
Like obsessed friends guiding you in
Then offering you up to the night
Like a pagan sacrifice
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