G-Spot (Draft)

August 6, 2011

I wonder where all of the PVC people will go now

that G-Spot has closed down,

it’s a terrible shame.

It was happily there at the back of the city

covered with ivy,

in between a pool hall

and an overgrown cemetery,

visited by no one,

pulled up to in taxis,

never did any harm,

except to the masochists.

Oh G-Spot, oh G-Spot

you came,

like an epiphany,

I never went in you

but you reminded me,
somehow,

of Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

But then they opened up a theatre

just across the road

with a glass fronted entrance

of glittering gold.

And they opened up a bar

just across the precinct

with goldfish bowl windows

blinking like sequins

And then they opened a venue

just across the way

and it opened each night

and glinted till day.

You held on for dear life

just as long as you could,

but the PVC people

were slightly alarmed

There was only so long

and G-Spot closed down

and the people all went

with their collars and masks.

Do they go the theatre?

Will you turn into a bar?

Will the PVC people

remember and dance?

Oh G-Spot, Oh G-Spot

where did you go?

it took years to find you –

I never knew you were there,

at the end of my road.

And then you were gone,

disappeared out of view,

your sign taken down

your neon removed

Oh G-Spot, Oh G-Spot

Oh mythical place

Oh sex in the city

Oh strap-ons and lace

Oh G-Spot, Oh G-Spot

replaced by the new.
When I look the theatre

I’m thinking of you.

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