The reckoning

You can realise that you
are intoxicated
when you sit down
with what you consider
a graceful air
yet the glass of red
hits the floor.

Here's to the twenty minutes
making sure it is mopped up
whilst the cigarettes
feel heavy and harsh.

The television is on
for the first time
in seven years
and some moron
called 'Wok Gwan'
or whatever
prances across the screen.

The television shows evil,
but nothing quite as brutal as
the way the legs cease
to work beneath you
as you stumble
in to slumber.

Tomorrow will come
with an angry shout
as the head cries
for rehydration
and composure
dances in the wind
like an underage girl
prised away
from her innocence.