Array ( [sid] => 142882 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => A Hangover [time] => 2008-06-02 01:53:34 [hometext] => [bodytext] => In the morning, ‘fore last
Night jousts in pangs,
‘Fore she recalls gins, or origins,
And she is up for grabs,
And any name sinks in its fangs;
When any pauper nabs
At the greasy feathers on her wings,
When the sunlight lays siege
On perfected rot and pecks in disarray
At the impeccable softness of day --
And stains the thrush’s throat that sings,
‘Fore she remembers the antidote of rum
To drown out the humdrum
Villains who come and go,
Leaving the doorway open for a skin,
Or another accomplice
Circa tombs of light-locked pumice,

She reaches for an aspirin
To quell the shapeless sin.

[comments] => 0 [counter] => 165 [topic] => 43 [informant] => screwge [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops ) Your Poetry Dot Com - A Hangover


A Hangover
Date: Monday, 2nd June 2008 @ 01:53:34 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: screwge
In the morning, ‘fore last
Night jousts in pangs,
‘Fore she recalls gins, or origins,
And she is up for grabs,
And any name sinks in its fangs;
When any pauper nabs
At the greasy feathers on her wings,
When the sunlight lays siege
On perfected rot and pecks in disarray
At the impeccable softness of day --
And stains the thrush’s throat that sings,
‘Fore she remembers the antidote of rum
To drown out the humdrum
Villains who come and go,
Leaving the doorway open for a skin,
Or another accomplice
Circa tombs of light-locked pumice,

She reaches for an aspirin
To quell the shapeless sin.



This poem is Copyright © screwge


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