"But I haven't made any find!"
And he strolled away with a whistle gay
While the monkey glowered behind.
In a moment or two, Doug wandered through
The gaudily-neoned door
Of a feverish-gay, bright cabaret;
Below, on the mirrored floor
Of the dancehall swayed a cavalcade
Of every breed and race
Whose daughters and sons defy the suns