I Can’t, On Account Of My Poor Constitution And Admirable Apathy

Just a few hours

Since last I wrote verse

My health and comfort

Have grown ever worse.

I’m caughing and wheezing,

Congested and achy,

Borderline antisocial

And across-the-line flaky.

But I find in this state

Of poor manners and health

I’ve gained more than money…

A much grander wealth:

The fortune and glory

My sickness imposed

Was not giving a shit.

It’s better than I’d supposed. 


Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s