It’s time to kick one of the Classics; Poe’s heavy-on-the-dread ‘The Raven’ is overdue a take-off. Or a piss-take.

(Written for Chel Owen's Terrible poetry contest- easy rules; basically use the first line of a well known poem and then put your twisted spin on it.)

The Rottenest Ever Hangover. 

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
After many a gin sunken I'm found slumpen 'pon the floor,
Dryly heaving, stomach clenching, regretting my night out wenching,
'Twas all quite gut-wrenching but I've known of its ilk before,
Muttered I, 'I'll go out and get pissed- pie-eyed no more,'
Murmuringly, for my skull be ever sore.

Ah, painfully in a head most tender I remember 'twas quite the bender;
E'en as each clang of pain in my brain rings down to its sodden core,
Uneasily recalling that I and that barfly signora put away a plethora
Of gin, oodles of Boodles* resulted in a night of sin worthy of Gomorrah,
Now that fair maid lies sleepily sated, a beauty without flaw,
Yet I shudder at her ev'ry snore.

Oh, the pain, teeth gritting, hard hitting, never quitting, head splitting,
In the mirror, pale and pallid I see the sorriest wretch you ever saw,
Aye, red rimmed eyes a' gleaming, the mind silently screaming-
I, a drunk with liver past redeeming, 'twill take a miracle to restore,
Oooh, but I'll drag myself to that familiar door-
One I've slammed behind me a time or two afore-
And retake the AA pledge once more.

*Boodles, a fine old English gin, one I'm still quick to recommend - but best take it slooowly, in moderation.  







©Obbverse.

10 thoughts on “It’s time to kick one of the Classics; Poe’s heavy-on-the-dread ‘The Raven’ is overdue a take-off. Or a piss-take.

    1. I sniffily say ‘it’s a poor man who drinks to excess,’
      I- I rely on my sober disposition, more- or less-
      No, it’s a chronic lack of funds, thats my trouble,
      I can swing for a single, can’t run to a double.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. This is brilliantly rendered, Obb. My favorite lines (of many) is:
    “Now that fair maid lies sleepily sated, a beauty without flaw,
    Yet I shudder at her ev’ry snore.”
    Ah really brings back the (good) old days for me.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thanks, I appreciate that, but ol’ Edger sure makes it easy with that style of his. However I don’t have to rack my brains to write about hangovers and regrets. Some things are seared in the brain. Ah, them good ol’ nights, them endlessly long bright blinding mornings…

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Terrific journey, once again.

    I trust that you will be quite pleased to learn to that we have a bot o’ Boodles atop our extensive liquor cabinet. (Said cabinet takes up half of one wall in a large room. You could land a respectably-sized plane on that thing, sans the myriad mullions of mirth.) So, should you ever wander this way, we can partake. Slowly, of course.

    Liked by 1 person

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