Thursday, January 29, 2009

I have a terrible cold.
And everyone knows how terrible colds
Change the whole structure of the universe,
Making us sore at life,
Making us sneeze till we get metaphysical.
My day is wasted, full of blowing my nose.
My head aches vaguely.
A sad fix for a minor poet to be in!
Today I'm really a minor poet.
Whatever I was before was only wishful, and that's gone.

Fairy queen, goodbye forever!
Your wings are sunbeams, and my feet are clay.
I'll never be well if I don't stretch out on the bed.
I never was well unless I was stretched out across the universe.

Excusez un peu....What a terrible physical cold!
I need some truth and aspirin.

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