Hungover, Driving by DS Maolalai

hungover, driving/

being driven through Cavan,

for-profit pine forestry

coasting both sides

of the road.

lying in back seat

with the night's wet detritus

and jack in the front –

driving and biting back

temper at my weakness

and weak conversation.

last night I punched him

in a rage at some slight

over card-games

and the rules of monopoly.

he's hungover as well;

we’d agreed to take turns

playing pilot.

and my turn was first,

but he said

it wasn't safe

and just drove, pushed me

into the back.

around us

trees go down

like a landing

of buzzards. loggers

work machinery,

adjust helmets,

direct cars.

---

“I have a tendency sometimes to write what I kind of think of as “you had to be there” poems. Believe me when I say this is a dead-on accurate description of the scene that occurred when a few of my friends went away for a weekend, and the drive home – but there’s a difference between diary and art, and this is the former.”

DS Maolalai (he/him) of Dublin in Ireland, has received eleven nominations for Best of the Net and seven for the Pushcart Prize. His poetry has been released in three collections, most recently “Noble Rot” (Turas Press, 2022). He can be found on Twitter @diarmo1990