by Roland King
The party cleanup
|Typically the stains of broken glow sticks
are not something you see
on a couch but here
like alien slime it is
very much a symbol
of far-flung festive frippery.
There is a limit
to how much a house or even a single room can take.
In fact the tousled tabletop
and frazzled floormat
indicate just how much of a stampede
of frolicking frat boys
could have been found just moments ago
before leaving the safety of their natural habitat
and heading out into the wild.
And you of course stayed behind to “volunteer”
for that which a short straw actually “voluntold” you to do.
And so cups, paper plates, napkins
and other sundries are your companions.
Gone are the the inside jokes, the raucous laughter
And the late night video game tournament.
Instead there are only messes.
Like life. Some pick up the pieces. Others don’t.
The ones willing to do so can sleep away their worries
while others have a long night of toilet time ahead of them.
Is it an after party? No just after the party.
Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge" week 18
Prompt: What is it like after all the party guests go home?