Meeting up with misery

Because it’s a Sunday
you open your eyes
carefully
waiting for the Panadol
to kick in,
but
your head’s in a saucepan
and
you’re not the man you
once were.

Swear?
I could do
and where
would that take me?

Anyway
I won’t drink today
or maybe
because it’s a Sunday
a small glass
of holy wine

just one more time
until the next time in which
I will
wake up and make up
a story
of how I will not.

© 2018, John Smallshaw.