Hangover on the Telephone

The poet collapses by the phone in a pool of vomit

Ring! Ring!
Is anyone at home?
This is your hangover
On the telephone;
Breathing whisky
Down the wire,
Choking cable,
Threatening
To expire.
Crawl to floor,
Drag legs-arms
On carpet, static
Crunching, brain
A bunch of jangling nerves,
Senses zigged and zagged,
Distasteful munching,
Punching face
This now that way,
Pitch persistent
Executioner;
What I'd give for a
Sober end!
Ring ring,
Panic! Gut distends.
Ring! Ring!
Claw at table,
Raise the handle,
Phone voice
Two tones deeper,
Hangover in control,
Sure to throw up,
Gurgle hello, but
She's hung up.

Poem Study Notes:

This poem was written in around 1998, during a decade in which the poet drank far too much.

This poem tries to be onomatopoeic in a very general way and aims to create a kind of chlostrophobic, uncomfortable feeling in the reader. If you feel sick after reading this poem, then it worked!