Hung-Over Poem by O.S. Brooks

Uneasy feeling of regret
Stirs low within my being
Unbalanced sense of direction
Heave - Dry memories of yesterday
It's warm in the room
And It's spinning
Kind of wish-washy like a match stick boat
Set amongst stormy waves
Where I temp God to extract the pain
With promises to never drink again
Perhaps, It's better than being dead,
Being caught out at sea,
Spinning toward an unknown certainty of time.