Ok, tonight is going to be a quiet night
tonight is a quiet night in.
Because we’re sick of broken heels and bones
missing wallets, stolen phones,
we’re sick of sick and drunken pricks,
so tonight we’re going to stay at home.

“You remember that time we went out for Sally’s birthday?
Yeah, you had that fight with the ground
and the ground won.
Yeah. No, no. Of course,
it wasn’t funny at all.”

There is some whisky on the shelf
some wine (for toasting people’s health)
and a pint and quarter of ‘polish water’
and fridge full of cider as well…
but no one’s planning to get drunk, or anything.

Now the evening’s warming up,
and people are starting to arrive
Just close friends, and they’re not loud
plus society mates and that whole crowd
plus girlfriends, plus boyfriends
and a whole host of their friends
but that’s really all that’s allowed.

“Who the hell is that?
Did you invite him?
Whatever, I don’t care
just hide the vodka from Carol
and don’t let anyone else in!”

But half an hour later they’re still ringing the bell
to come join the party with a few mates as well
to have three drinks, or four, then quite a few more
and suddenly it’s all gone to hell.

Because now there’s a puddle of sick in the hall
and for some reason a bloody great hole in the wall
there’s shouting and bitching in the lounge and the kitchen
and I’m just about fed up of it all.

“What? Someone needs to go to A&E? You do it.
Yes I know you’re drunker than I am,
bloody well sober up then. I’ve had enough.
I’d go to my room if it wasn’t full of coats.

And in the morning
in the
morning, well…

We’ve lost the deposit, we can’t pay the rent
my flat-mate is missing, I don’t know where he went
and the mess is less like a small meteor strike
than a full-blown extinction event.

“You remember that night we had everyone round?
The time Jeff got arrested for trying to steal a panda
and the flat caught fire. Yeah. No, no.
What do you mean it wasn’t funny?
The bit with the panda was hilarious.”


Image sourced from Wikimedia Commons. Photographer: mattbuck.


One thought on “Tonight

  1. Reblogged this on deepgremlin and commented:
    Lewis Brown has a technical style that is unmistakeable. His ability to hold two alternating forms in this poem is exemplary. I like to think of him as a funny, English, James Macpherson.

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