
THE LOST WEEKEND
A puppet on somebody else’s strings,
but longing to be a real live boy, I
told my long-nosed lies, conned my
fairy godmother and, before you knew
it, was a half-assed fugitive running
from the lights and delights of
Pleasure Island… Lying low, I
took me a room at The Belly of the
Whale Inn and began playing a
waiting game with Time… but
Time never gives an inch, and all
I won was a bad case of the
rock-bottom-blues bends so bad,
I bobbed up under the stark sun
like a bone dry champagne cork…
later coming tostrapped to a bed
in the… decompression ward?
(…or the de-something ward)