Illusory Follies Andrew Flanagan's Blog

14Nov/140

Stopping by the Medicine Cabinet on a Winter Night

“Whose Tylenol is this?” I say.

It isn't mine - ran out today

They will not care, nor even hear

I pop the top without delay

 

My hoarse throat’s longing for a beer

There’s still a ringing in my ear

And on my face, burning with heat

There streams an undesired tear

 

A chill runs from my head to feet

I scurry back to bed tout suite

The hot and oscillating sweep

Of bedside heater warms my sheet

 

I try to rest -- try counting sheep

But all I want to do is weep

And still the coughs keep me from sleep,

And still the coughs keep me from sleep.

 

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