They’re dancing on the floorboards of spilt alcohol, sweat,
without a care in the world: people of all ages, cultures—
the bathrooms are pissed stained, but it doesn’t matter,
everyone is here for fun, some by the pill and others
from the bottle. There’s a black dog hanging
around looking for attention, a young woman asks me
if I can keep an eye on her drink: trusting me, sensing
no evil. Tonight is the night of the rough looking crowd,
the losers; rejects, but more real and alive than the
judges. I’m a small town boy but tonight city life is found.

Jaydem Martin is a poet from Queensland, Australia. He identifies as a First Nations Australian, his great grandmother an elder of the Wiradjuri tribe. At the age of 10 he was diagnosed with a connective tissue disease which has brought difficulties to his life. Creative writing is something that allows him to have a voice and express himself.