Bathouse Larkin' (A Reader's Poem)

Submitted today by a GWM reader here in Very Rich Megacity, pursuant to a particularly soulless series of encounters at Hutong Sauna:

Bathouse Larkin'

Stumbling, heaving, rhythmic throng

where seas of injured souls belong

addled wits and empty eyes 

long-dead hopes there's no disguise.

 

Peacocks up and down they strut

With hungry eyes and hearts all shut

Liberation, oh who knew

Would be so soul-destroying too. 

 

Music, organs loins all throbbing

On the prowl. No time for sobbing

For what’s been robbed from our soul.

'The lifestyle' has consumed it all.

 

Men hand mis’ry onto men

It happens time and time again.

Run my friend with half a chance

Escape this self-destructive dance.

FuelMix says: 

 

Perfect.  Catches the attitude, frustration, erotic charge and emptiness so prevalent in a gay sauna. Thanks for submitting it.