David Burt - An Anatomy of Hallucination


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Poem


	My Lost Weekend
	I set myself a task today, just jobs to do at home I set to and cleaned my hair brush, just to find I’d lost my comb. I searched the house, yes room by room, as careful as could be, Here’s a list of what I found, it certainly startled me.
	The fence is down, some slates are off, the shower will not heat, The larder’s looking scant and bare, I’ve nothing left to eat. The fridge, it needs defrosting, I know I’ve left it late Now everything that’s in there, is past its sell by date.
	I’ve checked the upright freezer, just to see what was in there, Sponge puddings and a drumstick, apart from that, it’s bare. The freezer is in the garage, and what a mess that’s in, Unpacked cartons from my last move, left room for just the bin.
	The room my son vacated when he left to go abroad Was a tip to say the least, what strange things young folk hoard. I need to rid myself of this and start afresh somehow, I need a plan, immediately and by that I mean right now.
	I returned into the sitting room and prepared myself a shot, My resolve was get a grip of things or your whole life’s going to pot. I need a list, let’s organise, it’s time to draw the line, But first I’ll have another glass of that lovely Highland wine.
	I did I made the effort and drew up a working list, But this morning when I read it, it was the work of an exclusionist. So once again I face the task of squaring up my home And do you know even to this day, I haven’t found my comb.
	My Lost Weekend (Audio)

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