Hangover Day 1972 Poem by Terry Collett

Abela
sits at the
round table

in our cheap
hotel lounge
I sit there

opposite
eyeing her
she has a

hangover
she told me
like her head's

been kicked in
like her guts
have been deep

invaded by
kids at play
a young Serb

waitress comes
and serves us
good morning

she utters
hopefully
I reply

Abela
gazes at
the menu

Benedict
you order
I can't get

my mind to
focus on
the black words

I order
for us both
and the Serb

waitress goes
and I think
how lovely

her bottom
sways away
in the black

shiny skirt
Abela
stares at me

did we make
love last night?
not in bed

only in
my sore head
I reply

did I sing?
yes you did
sang Mozart

arias
in between
throwing up

was I good?
don't think our
neighbours liked

your cursing
and swearing
and one finger

gesturing
I reply
I guess I

was bad huh?
she utters
never mind

I tell her
it was a
case of the

blind leading
the darn blind.