that kind of party

Thanks to Bob for sending this poem!

That Kind of Party
Patrick Swaney


I go to the party wearing a strand of lights around my neck
like a scarf. It turns out I’m the only one at this party


wearing lights as a scarf and even though people tell me
I look fabulous I feel self-conscious and regret my decision.


I get drunk because it is a party and tell everyone that these
aren’t my lights, they’re borrowed from a friend. Yes, but


do they work? they ask. If you plug them in, but really
I never wear lights, normally, I try to explain. I’m led


to a corner where I spend the rest of the night against
the wall tethered to an outlet. People love the lights


even more now and the party expands around me.
The lights paint my face a strange color and the few bulbs


that touch skin are painful but people keep bringing me
drinks, clapping me on the shoulder, and complimenting


me on my lights. And I have to remind them that they
aren’t my lights, I only borrowed them from a friend.