Influenza, The Poem
Influenza, where do you come from?
Oh, screw your many and varied origins,
why jet set across the globe and infest me?
What’s the use in making me sneeze,
exhaling your genetically mutating magic combination,
and infesting all that I see?
Your purpose on this planet is quite lame,
for touch wood – I am not dead, yet.
You temporarily shoot a snotted pain in my head,
then immobilise my brain, depriving me of a few days,
here and there, of being at the workplace,
yet to be honest, I don’t really care!
I know there is some post-modern wisdomized vomit karma in all this,
how one can be positive, happy and healthy all you want,
but some days, humanoid bag of blood, you must feel like shit.
But why can’t I be wholly responsible for my downs,
and not you, snot-hopping Influenza,
you ever shifting, replicating, untouchable and incurable,
mutated biological psychopath piece of shit?
Copyright 2009 Simon Drake
First written 24/04/2004, updated 04/04/2009, trying to prevent, hmmm, influenza.
Tags: influenza







