gripped

Dear Master of the Universe:

it has been brought to my attention
by certain aches and pains and
personal plumbing problems
that I have been granted
responsibility for Your revenge on
humanity regarding the misuse of
this planet and possibly
this solar system.

I wish to protest
that I know several people
who have the time
and even the inclination
to suffer immensely
and with great dramatic skill
such as I have neither the training
nor the inclination to undertake.

I would be most grateful
if You would find it in Your capacity
as a wise and all-knowing Being
to shift the burden of the back ache
sore joints, head ache, sore eyes
and the runny nose
to those whose sordid deflation
would be more pleasing to You
than I, who tend to ignore it
most of the time.

Yours truly,
and somewhat ungratefully, I know,
the poet.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/ Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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4 Responses to gripped

  1. danae mcC says:

    Ah, so sorry, if this is your current condition. Reading this makes my nose stuff up.

    So true that some people genuinely “enjoy” poor health. I’m not sure they’re more deserving of it, but at least there’s a payoff.

    A different poem could be written about those who flutter around, offering presumably comforting items or remedies every little while, when all you want is to be left alone in your misery. Come to think of it, though, I’ve never known a man who didn’t appreciate the attention.

    Hope you feel much better soon–if such hope is applicable.

    • riverwriter says:

      My wife and her friends have a saying that “There’s nothing sicker than a sick husband.” When they say that, they nod significantly at each other as if underlying this is a significant portion of their system of secret nudges and handshakes, as probably may be. In my defense, I must say that I do not enjoy ill health when it visits me; in fact, I firmly believe that ill health, like fish and guests who stay longer than three days, begins to stink.

      As to the effect of this poem upon your sinuses, I must most moistly beg your forgiveness, as there was no intent on my part to sickify you or any reader.

      • danae mcC says:

        No, no, forgive me. I’m sure you haven’t sickified anyone you haven’t been in direct contact with. I’m just pathologically empathic, which is why I could never be a nurse.

        You must be feeling a little better. No one could have written today’s “Story Time” unless some part of him was comfy.

        Tissue?

        • riverwriter says:

          I wrote it to cocoon myself into feeling better. That’s one of the amazing benefits of writing: you can really create your own reality in which all the rest n’existe pas.

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