Poem by Mary Hobson

Doggerel

I found my way to Siberia
in search of a friend that I’d lost.
The journey could not have been drearier
and I don’t like to mention the cost.

At the risk of contracting listeria
I sampled the in-flight meal,
broke my fork on the bony exterior
of a cutlet which claimed to be veal.

The red wine was Bordeaux Superior.
To what, they neglected to say.
But I drank it all up and felt cheerier.
By now I was well on my way.

My welcome was scarcely inferior
to that of the prodigal son.
As the toasts became steadily beerier
I downed several vodkas in one.

Two weeks later, though colder and wearier,
I thought, as I made for the plane,
with a laugh that was close to hysteria,
it was great. I shall do it again.

1. The Counsellors
2. Snow in Zaraisk
3. Laundry Blues
4. Death and the Biker
5. They’ll say ‘Do you remember when…?’

Print

1604 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version