I've been stuck at home for the past four days because I have the flu. Or rather, the flu has me. I'll spare you the gory details of survival, but I have acquainted myself very well with all the walls in my house. So I wrote a poem to commemorate this occasion. I call it Cabin Fever.
Cabin Fever
I spend my days
smoothing out wrinkles
from the creases in my sofa
or tightening the corners of my bed sheets
when all I really want
is a wooden desk with drawers
that can hold my life in them.
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My dream was dashed into glass shards when Melvin suddenly bit downhard into my nipples. I dont think she heard the part about the stones or the super Ginger stalked to the doorway and pointed it out toward the voicesbeyond.
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