I sat up abruptly
gasping and vaguely repentant
for some unknown crime
reaching instinctively
for a pull at the bottle
whose liquid was no more vitriolic
than my own subdued--
if frantic--self.
I expelled a few evil spirits
from my head,
flopped over and proceeded
to attempt even breathing once more.
I think the sloshing water bottle
managed to invade my feverish dreams.
Author notes
The flu bites. It can kiss my ass.
Does this work?
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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From one victim to another...
Nienna, I was nailed by the flu about two and a half weeks ago and I think I am still just short of 100% in my recover. It is a real bugger. Due to that rough spell, it is SO easy for me to relate to this poem and put myself right there with the speaker. Such misery. I really like the way you showed repent for the "unknown crime" and referred to the evil spirits... certainly feelings that go with the suffering. Excellent little poem. Good work.
language: 4, rhythm: 4, subject: 4, tone: 4, form: 4.
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Hahaha, I like this one. As I began to read it, I thought about getting up the morning after a long party night. The last two lines and the notes genuinely surprised me. I like what you have placed under collaborators as well. This is well written, and it brings back memories.
I have experienced the flu, and it sucks every bit as much as what you describe here. I shudder to even think about getting it again, especially with the new strains out this year. Nice poem!
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Delerium encapsuled
You may have not felt vitriolic, but some caustic humour does leak through. Some hot pepper sauce will clear that head in an instant.
If my computer catches your virus, then more that your posterior will be in trouble young lady!
language: 2, rhythm: 2, subject: 2, tone: 3, form: 2.
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Get well soon, Nienna.
The flu's a bugger. Sorry you have to go through it but it looks like you've got the right attitude. Keep that snap up and you'll kick it's patoot, I gotta feelin'.
Get well soon, Nienna.
al -
A Get Well Soon Card To Ms Colle.
May a strident immunity system debug your clogged sinuses, Nienna, and return thee to haleness.
May the insiduous illness chomping your posterior become the butt of its own joke.
May your fevers be blessed by healthy dollops of Muse in both hypnogogic and hypnopompic states.
May these diseased dreams bear fruits of further inspiration for your poetry.
But you know what, Nienna.
It sounds suspiciously to me like you had a bit too much to drink last night and blaming it on a phantom flu.
"I expelled a few evil spirits
from my head,"
Ouch! Watch out for those tequilas - they sneak up on you!
Get well soon!
Cheers and mucho regards
gG
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