Poetry corner

A sickness

I think I must be coming down with something. After a few fitful hours of sleep I can already see the signs. Most people know their body is battling a virus when they start to get a runny nose, a ticklish cough, slightly high temperature - these are all acknowledged signs.

With me, it's different. I know I'm coming down with something when I find myself listening to Bukowski. Yep, I've got creeping misanthropy - along with a raised temperature, runny nose and a ticklish cough. But the Bukowski thing came first. Maybe there's some kind of causal relationship - like his words not only eat away at the soul but also, in some way, depress the immune system. Who knows?

Anyway, I'm going back to bed - I'll leave you to deal with Bukowski.