Bowery, 2008
The Hiro
Meat and thrust and beat and drunk and the Nu-Rave Vagrant careens through the door of the Hiro Ballroom to hear house in full thump and swing. And the floor is spinning stars and every pair of eyes that flash through the erratic lighting is prosecuting, tearing apart the witness, cold. Drink. The Nu-Rave Vagrant starts lurching to the bass, a marked and startling presence amongst the tight white tees and the scrawny skinny vipers that twine for the token straight male. And through the haze he starts to come to. And he hates it here. Snort. And the effect on the brain is shrinkage and dilation and dilution and dehydration but he doesn’t care because it shuts him off and shuts him out and he needs to not be here, really. So he dances.
© Matthew Sheret, 2008
