Thursday, 16 June 2016

(Hangover Poems)





HANGOVER QUILLS



I am very hungover today
And I will work on poetry
I read your poems Pooja Nansi
And they reminded me of
A time when I wore a broken
Healing wretched heart
Like a pin on my lapel
Men I couldn’t really tell
Apart fell in to my lap
Like drink spills, I
Didn’t really miss them
When they’d gone


*


I woke up with no recollection of how and why
Top half still on (bra and all)
Bottom half relegated to the floor
Lamps still on and bright white light
Flooding in from the window and at first
You’re numb from the truth which is
Oh no. It’s daylight and last night I drank too much.
Then it’s the dread of what happens next
If I move? And then it’s some odd recurring thought patterns
That flit in and out of dreams or delusions or both;
I am at a training camp where you must raise your hand
And share with the faceless class an occasion of
Heartbreak and humiliation
No body makes to move so I raise my hand and yell
Quite loudly – a time I waited for someone who never came
I get some nods of approval
I wake and I crawl to fill my glass with water and
Sup and wait and set my alarm to be back again
At that camp but it’s an assault course this time
In the dimmed dark, it’s wet like Scotland outside
Inside my friends are climbing walls and it feels
Ominous. The one I love has an accident, grisly
Head splits open and comes to sit by me
And I look at his smashed skull with brain bits but his face
Still looks fine to me and I need to wake up before
I am sick with horror and dread and fear of it all
It’s a dream you sick sad fuck


*


I will sleep on my desk
As the ticker tape rolls
As the typewriter clicks
And flags wave for goals