Hangover

I do not know myself without thee more

                                                  - Modern Love, George Meredith

 

And like the times you had one glass too many
Your marriage didn’t know when to stop.
For years you drift into unconsciousness
Then wake one morning with a hangover
To find the furniture and the children gone.
From habit you take two aspirin,
Surprising yourself with your circumspection.
You don’t know whether to eat or not,
To sleep or stay awake –
And when wept-spent you want to rest
You find there is no peace, no quiet.

Your “friends appear like paramedics”*
Administering advice on the therapeutic
Properties of Time. But for now there is no cure.
Somehow you go on: composing a villanelle
In Coff’s Harbour on an autumn morning;
Reading at a Yarra Valley winery
Late one winter afternoon.

Every evening you return to a silent house,
Pour yourself a drink, allow ice to melt
As you would anger… Then wait for night to come,
For stars again to blink and break
Into countless shards of hardened light.

* Quote is from Andy Kissane’s poem Rising and Falling

Ray Liversidge

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