After the legshows and the brandies
And all the pick-me-ups for tired
Men there is a feeling
Something more is required.
The lights go down, and eyes
Look up across the room;
Salome comes in, bearing
The head of God knows whom.
Louis MacNeice (1907-1963)
This is what I always feel like on a night out in Yabaolu: the ennui that pulls up short of boredom, the mild discomfort that doesn't like to call itself disgust.
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