A deadly game.

Manhattan’s elite in black ties and gowns
I watch from the corner as they paint past their frowns
That I know are behind their pretty pulled faces
That are frozen while they speak of the newest disgraces
Darting their eyes while they whisper of fire
Of who has what and the newest attire
Apple-martini’s, champagne with a twist
Alcohol to forget that they truly exist.

Like a pestilent smoke, the city, it hovers
At the top of the room, playing chess with its lovers
Selfishly placing each little pill
In the perfect position to make it’s next kill
Manhattan’s next move, carefully planned
A small-scale affair, nothing too grand
Moves seductive brunette across the room
To flirt and to flaunt with Yesterday’s Groom
Who immediately removes his ring from his finger
In hopes that his evening’s coquette will linger

Manhattan smiles as I watch with disgust
As the evening digresses and turns into dust
While Black Ties and Gowns rot on the floor
An emblem of night and everyone’s whore
As the sun floods the chessboard, one less reason to strive
The socialites crumble knowing they’re still alive.