Joyride to madness
By jfarrell
You’re tired, you know you wanna go to bed;
Do you really wanna open another can now?
Yep!!!! don’t mind if I do.
Hic!
I was fading, almost gone,
But, like Popeye, I crush that can, glug, glug, glug;
See that shirt rip…. see them biceps grow.
Hic!!!
Hang about…. it’s about now….
5.
….4…3…..2……
Dragon arrives right on time, better than Uber.
Hic!!!
Racing through a burning forest,
Sorry, my bad, my dragon set it a ablaze…
She sneezed, so sorry my bad.
Hic!!!!
Racing through a completely burnt forest….
Mist, smoke, nothing but smell of burning everywhere;
Again, I apologize, my bad, Karla got flu…
YEAH!!! YEAH!!! ALRIGHT!!! STOP THERE!!!!!
How the hell can an invisible dragon (who, technically, doesn’t exist)
Get flu????????????
Hic!!!!
Do I look like a vet to you?
I’m an idiot,
How I know if dragons get flu?
Hic!!!
But, my invisible (non-existant) dragon has flu….
Bugger…. she sneezed and the Aylesbury Estate nothing
But ashes.
Hic!!!
I sit in the smouldering remains of my home,
Cataloguing my loss;
Karla, redfaced and offering me a can of beer, snuggles beside me.
Hic!!!!
You’re tired, you know you wanna go to bed;
Do you really wanna open another can now?
Yep!!!! don’t mind if I do.
Hic!!!
WMD
By jfarrell
Dressed in my fred flinstone trunks,
Riding my silver surfer surf board;
I crest the wave of fire,
I crash into the wave of ice
And howl in fury.
That bloody unicorn’s got my bag of weed!
I crash up against a barrier and feel myself enveloped,
Spider’s web spinning about me
Faster and faster…..
Damn…. this is a nifty looking space suit….
How does it work?
Of course!
Control panel on left arm (it’s in all the films).
WHOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHH…….
That unicorn ain’t getting away with my weed!
I rise over my black, silvery ocean of flu
And look around…
THERE!
At the epicentre….
There’s my bag of weed…
BOOOOOMMMMM!!!!!!!
As I explode into a half dozen quick sneezes,
Which brings me to 2-3 minutes of coughing my lungs out…
I find the coffee I’m looking for and reach for it.
I can barely register the supermarket about me, my very empty basket.
A virus is at work in my body;
Recreating it’s nastiness and passing it on with my every breath;
But I still gotta do the shopping;
Haven’t eaten in 3 days.
Fevered visions
By jfarrell
6 or 7 years old;
I wake in the night, desperate for the toilet
Rush out to bathroom
To see a bright, glowing light emerge
From the bottom of the stairs.
Fled in terror back to my bed;
Don’t know what I saw,
But by the time I was under the covers, hiding
It was a glowing skeleton wrapped in chains;
Aglow.
Another, flu, bug blurred night;
Awaking again;
This time, the walls and floor go;
As I look, everything recedes, at high speed,
Into an unreachable distance;
There is no floor, just me, the bed
And a dark, bottomless chasm.
And the ones I really hate…
I awake to find my bedding is somehow alive,
An intelligent, thinking, malevolent entity
Hell-bent on suffocating me, tying me down;
Holding me responsible for horrid crimes
I can’t remember.
Maybe we can’t cure flu,
Because it’s really tiny aliens
Hell-bent
On messing with our heads.
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God! I never get sick,
24 hour stomach virus,
The waves of nausea,
Each one seems longer than the next,
And then cold sweats,
Kick covers off,
Pull covers up,
Moan a little, so I can hear I'm still alive.
Oh how I hate nausea.
Finally, 3:30 a.m.
I purge, gratefully so,
And my throat burns,
The taste is awful,
And I curl up like a kitten in bed
To listen to the wind howl outside my window.
It's warm and I feel comforted.
I doze off thinking next time
I'll be more sensitive about my needs
So I don't have to puke my guts up
To feel comforted.
I hate nausea,
Oh I hate it
Like another Christmas spent
With everyone else but you.
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