by Christy Parker

My head is in the bowl, my stomach’s on a roll
I’m about to puke my soul
Fifteen pints of stout rush headlong out my mouth
And there’s more to come no doubt…
I’m down here on my knees watching chips and processed peas
Leave with peanuts from the Quays
I should be in my bed but there’s a war inside my head
Waged with cannonballs of lead

 

My guts and I are partin’ and me arse has started fartin’
And I think its only startin’…
Here comes the chicken curry and it’s in an awful hurry
I knew that I’d be sorry
At the time it was such fun (though I only went for ‘one’)
Now my belly’s on the run
As stuff I last saw on a plate and things I can’t believe I ate
Endeavour to evacuate

 

Every colour wants to leave as I give another heave
And it’s running down my sleeve
I only had a thirst and now my head is fit to burst
‘Though my bowels may get there first
My past is leaving me behind, I’m getting cramp and going blind
How can God be so unkind?
Last night is passing by my throat and as I kneel and watch it float
I’ll never drink again, I know it

 

No, I will drink again no more, now I know too well the score
If I had only known before I…
Who?…
The lads?… At the door?…You sure?
Oh what the hell -I need a cure!

 

 

Taken from ‘Don’t Step In The Poems‘, a collection of verse by Christy Parker with illustrations by Paul Daly and Mary Gregoriy.