Plaster Of Paris Poem by Dónall Dempsey

Plastered in Paris
after more than ' a little tipple'

you topple
off your high heels

stumble against a wall
like a woman shot by firing squad

losing the head
losing the thread

you crack your skull
against an ornate edifice

knocking a piece
of plaster off.

You stick it
in your purse.

'God...that hurts! '

Now it sits
upon your desk

a memento to
make you smile.

'Plaster of Paris! '
you laugh when someone asks

and pour yourself
another.