The Night Died. Poem by Terry Collett

Netanya was all
over the place.

I held her up
back from the bar,
she singing verses
loudly in the streets.

I held my booze well,
then up in the elevator
to our flat
and she to
the kitchen swaying.

Want a drinky,
she said.

Not now Baby,
lets get to bed.

I want a drinky,
she said.

You've had drinky,
now bed.

That's all you
think of is bed,
and sex, and me there
for you to ram into,
she said.

Sleep alone then,
but lets to bed,
I said.

She swayed
into the bedroom
and began to undress:
taking off her coat
and shoes, and then
stood there.

How am I supposed
to get this darn dress off,
when they put
the fecking zip
at the back?
She said,
swaying side to side.

Here let me
help you unzip.

She stood there placid
and staring at the wall:
unzip me then lover boy,
undress me
from my dress.

I unzipped her dress,
and she somehow
managed to step out of it,
and I hung it up
as she stood gazing
out at the night sky
through the curtained window.

Moon's out tonight,
she said,
and those stars things.

I got her nightdress
from under the pillow
and helped into it
and buttoned her up.

Into bed now,
I said.

All alone?
She said.

If you want,
I said.

If I want?
She said
swaying back and forth.

I helped her
into bed
and she lay there
staring at the ceiling.

Who's spinning
the room around?
she said.

Close your eyes
and it will stop spinning,
I said.

O right
and she closed her eyes.

I undressed
and went lay
on the sofa
in the other room
with the door open
so I could hear
if she had trouble.

Night night feller,
she said.

Night night Baby Doll,
I replied,
then she was quiet,
the night died.