Email Poem

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Poem

The fires of hell start to burn my skin
I never knew I had committed such a sin
My skin is leaking all over the bed
The arrows of 20 thousand Indians pierce my head
I’m burning up I can’t take anymore
I try to escape but I just hit the floor.

A river of ice rushes over me
I’m frozen and shaking why can’t he see?
I need some quilts I need to keep warm
I think the chattering of my teeth will do them some harm

I am lucid again, things are looking quite good
The elephants knitting some booties out of wood
The cowboys’ and Indians they fight back to back
I know I’m getting better, I know they can’t win like that.

The fires of hell sweep over me again
My throat burns like I’ve swallowed a topless fountain pen.
My husband looks at me and he declares with concern
I’m fetching the doctor so we can learn.

The doctor he calls I know what’s wrong with you
It’s a microscopic bug and we call it the flu
Stay in bed till the Indians have all left the closet
Till the booties are made and you know that they fit

Your temperature will fall don’t worry it will
But stay where you are or you will be ill
I’m ill now I said patting the bed
Just sit beside me you can massage my head.

When you are lucid and well we will have a chat
And your husband will explain what was wrong with that.
He laughed and patted my head like a child
The elephants dropped a stitch and It’s making me wild.

The lap top is laughing at me on top of the bed
The river of ice is rushing from my feet to my head
I think I will leave my writing till later
The heron is now fighting with the pet alligator.

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