A Reek of a Different Kind. by Oormila Vijayakrishnan Prahlad

the crate of six packs
from the party last night
sits bang in the center
of the dining room table.

I really don’t understand
why the idiots I hang out with
ritually leave them here
when they know very well
I stopped drinking
goddamned years ago.

maybe they think I’ll wisen up,
be inspired to guzzle again,
sobriety being so overrated and all that,
I don’t know
I’ve got a bloody migraine,
the sourness of mocktails
white tar on my tongue,
I must have downed
four, maybe five glasses last night,
I can’t remember
my head hurts from the sugar spike -
you know you are pathetic
when fucking orange juice
gives you a hangover.

I amble to the wash basin,
pop open two cans
pouring the froth over my hair
lathering it in,
beer percolating my scalp.

strands glossed, root to tip,
protein flexed and blow dried,
I’m ready for a night on the town
with a do to rival Schwarzkopf,
the stench of beer on my person
a reek of a different kind.

Oormila Vijayakrishnan Prahlad is a Sydney based artist, poet, and pianist. She holds a Masters in English. Oormila was raised in the Middle East and was a war refugee during Operation Desert Storm. She has exhibited her art and accompanying poetry in Kuwait, India, Singapore, and Australia. She is a member of Sydney’s North Shore Poetry Project and Authora Australis. Her recent works have been published in Red Eft Review, Glass Poetry Journal’s Poets Resist, Eunoia Review, Underwood Press’ Rue Scribe and The Maier Museum of Art’s Journal of Ekphrastic Poetry. She has poems forthcoming in the Rat’s Ass Review. Oormila regularly performs her poetry and exhibits her art at shows in Sydney.