A running nose in hunderd degree heat
Sweating and crawling, my skin is alien flesh
Plugged ears when the elevation shifts five feet or more
And the queasy growling under my naval
It's the summer flu
What did I eat?
Who do I know that can't get out of bed?
Who did I kiss?
What will I do as I toss in perspiration sheets?
These are the the mysteries of the summer flu
There's only one thing
To lay prone
And another thing, drink fluids
Starve your fever, or is it, feed it?
Every problem in the world
Is in your body, unavoidable
In the summer flu
Nobody else cares, until you give it to them
Nobody remembers except to say, "ew, stand over there",
What it was like the last time
Their body contained every worldly problem
But they can't escape it, the hot, clingy, sticky, crawly
Virus of the summer flu
Five minutes, an hour, then two
Half a day, then night, and still here
Still floating up and over into the night
And morning, it should be gone
Sniffling stuffed up sinus-jammed breathing
It's all over when you cough and rattle
The bass note serenade of the summer flu
--that's what it has been like these past three days. It occurred to me that I've only had one or two summer flu's. They are worse than the usual mid-winter bug in that they seem to be more reckless. Germs with bermuda shorts and hibachi's on vacation in my blood stream. Can't wait for them to pack up and go home. Perhaps this is what Oregonians think of us here in California as we invade during the mosquito months. I wonder...