the honeymoon
Date: Sunday, 1st December 2002 @ 02:30:00 PM AEST Topic: Sad Poetry
Contributed By: Jan_Oskar_Hansen
The Honeymoon
Woke up in a cold hotel room, in
winter cold Wales didn’t have coins
for the gas heater and it wasn’t quite
morning yet. Beside me, in the semi
darkness the outline of a woman’s
sleeping face, Mohamed Ali hit me
in the solar plexus woke up at count
nine when the referee was nailing my
hands to the floor. Hazily recalled
a wedding reception where I was
the groom holding on to a table full
of food and booze. Why did she had
to marry me, didn’t she see that I was
drunk? Confused and bleeding I got
up off the floor, dressed, went down
to the bar and since no one was there
pulled myself a pint of lager planning
how to get out of that one.
This poem is Copyright © Jan_Oskar_Hansen
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