Tag Archives: Sickness

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. 

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No Accounting For Taste (97% Fiction)

Four days ago I wrote a post

That said my throat was sore.

It still is and I’m tired

And I’m snowed-in and I’m bored.

I’m wearing just a bathrobe

That’s drenched in day-old phlegm.

Still no luck with the gals on Tinder…

Well, I don’t know what’s wrong with them.

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72 Days Too Late

“Best by November 2016”

Was on my salad dressing.

I shook my head as I poured it on

And hoped that Kraft was guessing.

Now my life goes with the flow

And I eat only undressed veggies.

On the bright side never anymore

Do people give me wedgies.

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Nursing School, 1st Percentile

Sorry that you’ve got the flu.
I hate it when you’re sick,
So I’ve taken steps to fix you
And make your healing quick.

I made you chicken-nyquil soup
And took your temperature.
I bought you prunes to help you poop
And Web-MD’ed a cure.

I put damp cloths on your forehead
And made a pot of tea.
Here are more blankets for your bed.
You’re lucky to have me!

But still you need for one last thing?
Privacy, peace, and quiet?
Sounds good! I’ll put some music on
And wait here while you try it.

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Episode III: Revenge of the Sick

My writer’s nerve is blocked.
My sinuses are too.
Please accept this micro-poem
And this picture of R2.

20140709-075305-28385925.jpg

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The Miracles of Modern Medicine

I started out with aspirin
To dull some of the pain,
Then NyQuil, DayQuil, and vitamin C
To make the sickness wane.

Then I tried garlic, cloves and sage,
Parsley, rosemary, and thyme.
I danced in the rain and howled
And put coconut into my lime.

At the start of the fifth day
A unicorn brought me viagra
And a bottle of water that, I was told,
Came straight from the falls of Niagara.

I hope I feel much better.
I deserve it, Heaven knows.
On the other hand, if I should die
I’ll never decompose.

(Thanks for bearing with me through all of the sickness poems. I want them to stop just as much as you).

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In Sickness and in Health

I made a commitment
To this poetical quest
That each day, rain or shine
Something rhyming would be pressed.

And so as I lie
Awash in my phlegm*
I write you this limerick,
Though it is not a gem:

There once was a very sick poet
Whose nose needed someone to blow it.
He searched for a tissue
But found none. What an issue!
Finally he chose to Costco it.

*I apologize for the image. Be thankful it wasn’t a photo.

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