When my guard was down they attacked from behind
With a blow to the head - now I wake up to find
There's a sort of red mist in front of one eye
And my tongue's gone all rubbery and my mouth is so dry.
There's a part of my head that floats on its own
And a pain when I move that just makes me groan.
My stomach and its contents have ceased to be friends
And are now parting company via both ends.
I ought to get up but I'm frightened to try,
I just want to lie here and hope that I'll die.
I can't understand how I came to be caught
By those two nasty muggers - red wine and port.
the above work is copyright David Axton © All Rights Reserved