Drank too much at Sunday lunch <br />had a nap and woke at five, <br />thought it was morning and felt <br />like hell. Slumped in front <br />of my computer — <br />no messages <br />on Poem Hunter. <br />Who’s on line? No-one I know, <br />God I’m feelin’ well below <br />par, yes very far, <br />even my head <br />is hanging low, <br />think about what <br />a friend told me today, <br />how his mate last week <br />had an awful pain <br />in his left shoulder, <br />it got worse and worse, <br />so he took him to the hospital <br />and in the car he began to sink <br />into a really parlous state <br />yelping with <br />the awful pain. <br />Heart attack, it <br />turned out to be and he was only <br />forty-three. The evening stretches into <br />infinity, and as for me <br />I'd like to be some place else, <br />in another me, <br />in a different time and place<br /><br />Pete Crowther<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/drank-too-much-at-sunday-lunch/
