After waking up from a four
day binge of alcohol, hash,
pills, I found myself lying
next to a woman I didn’t
love, though she said that
she loved me,
the woman I loved had
marched out of my world:
beside the bed, the floor
was cluttered with empty
wine bottles, over-flowing
ashtrays, take-out-food
cartons, plates of
rotting food and the
interest of a large number
of flies:
I got up, vomited, smoked
a joint and phoned the
woman I loved and told
her what a pathetic
sorry-ass loser I was and
asked for her
forgiveness and said that I
loved her and wanted to
be with her:
“That’s nice to hear but
don’t ever fucking call me
again” she said terminating
the call:
I opened a beer, it wasn’t
going to help but I
couldn’t think of anything
else to do:
I looked out across the
park, I drank from the
bottle waiting for the
woman I didn’t love to
wake up so I could tell
her that I didn’t love her
and that she should
the day wasn’t looking
good and when I looked
into a mirror, I saw that
neither was I,
I drank the beer,
opened another
and waited.

Image CreditJakob Owens

John D Robinson is a UK poet: his work appears widely online and in print: he has published several chaps and four full collections of his work: 'Red Dance' Uncollected Press USA is his latest: his work recently appeared in 'The Ragged Lion Press Journal #2'  UK