Monday, April 12, 2010


Phenylephrine

Can barely breathe
Congestion is the solider guarding the door
Waiting for me to blow

So I do; often as the dome fills
Then pounds seeking relief
Ahh..ear pop!

Finally, sound! well a little.
Oh boy, here comes snot rolling down
on stealth mode yelling,

Catch me if you can! Ha-ha!
This some BS! Is this absolutely necessary?
Head pounding potholes in sanity or

was one ever sane in the first place? according
To what measuring stick? There is no other soul
To measure against. Cept's for the chiseler.

Nose is presently sore to the touch even
Standing under the shower stream
Brings ache and refreshment

So shower's are done with one hand
In a fist the other palm out catching rain
And stars.

Some hot tea sounds nice and
Warm to the soul.
A nice dinner.

Now all is left is
making love...
Wait, congestion's at the door! Achoo!



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