Abela's Dreams 1972 Poem by Terry Collett

That string quartet
last night in the City
Bartok and Debussy things.

Then the dinner
and then drinks
at the bar.

Benny eyeing
the waitresses
and I the waiter
especially that
tall dark eyed one.

I drank too much
got to our room
and undressed
and I lay there
wanting him
but I drifted off
into sleep.

He said he slept
on the small sofa.

I woke this morning
with a heavy head
and sour mouth.

Now we sit waiting
for breakfast.

My stomach doing
somersaults
my head unclear.

Benny looking
at the passing waitress
and her neat butt
or so it seems.

I dreamt
of that waiter
such are dreams.