December 11, 2007

Sick

Sick

Under a comforter that is damp with sweat,
My body shivers as if I was lying nude in an ice box.
My throat is full of steel wool and cotton.
I can barely swallow the herbal green tea
Sitting beside my bed steaming in a white pirate mug.
There is a tar-like murky pus dripping down the back of my throat.
It’s green and yellow when I cough and hack it up.
Sometimes there’s a brick-red in the crimped up tissue, too.

I should go to the doctor.