I’m lying in my little bed
With reddish nose and stopped-up head;
My eyes are blurred; my ears are tinny;
The walls contract; the room is spinny;
My joints all ache; my skin is tender;
Resistance must be on a bender.
The bathrooms much too far, my dear;
Kindly bring it over here.
And if you once more mention food,
I swear I’ll utter something lewd–
And while I’m talking, one thing more:
Avoid that pat expression, for
A “touch of flu” can make me bawl–
A touch, my eye–I got it ALL!
by Ray Romine Sunday, September 7, 1952
