Bathrooms at Parties

I retreat to them
To be alone,
Too tipsy to gag at
The sight of a soggy hand towel
Or portraiture of piss on the floor.
This is the best moment I ever get
And I spend it looking into a smudgy mirror,
Contorting my face in weird ways
To confirm I exist.
I speak to my reflection
But barely hear my epiphanies
Above the faraway subwoofer
That tickles my feet.
Whatever said is precious
And life-changing
And immediately forgotten.
My mind has a charley horse,
Then is buoyant again,
Then sinks like an anchor.
I want to stay forever
In this tiled womb,
But someone knocks furiously
And I must leave.
I crack open the door,
Hoping the party has vanished,
But it hasn’t.
Then I go into the party,
Then I leave the party,
Then I go into the night,
Then I get on the subway,
Then I get off the subway
And find my bedroom where
I undress to sleep.
Already I miss
The safety of bathrooms
And look forward
To my next invitation.