Notes About The Poem

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ALLERGY APOCOLYPSE
Summer arrives
and so does the pollen~
a tiny, floating army
armed with microscopic nun chucks
and zero remorse.
My nose becomes a weather siren,
blaring at every breeze.
My eyes water like I’m reading
the saddest novel ever written,
though I’m only looking at a tree.
Sneezes erupt with the force
of minor natural disasters.
Birds scatter.
Neighbors stare.
Small dogs reconsider their life choices.
I try to be graceful,
but grace is impossible
when your face is a faucet
and your sinuses are staging
a full-scale rebellion.
Still, I step outside~
brave, heroic, and congested
because summer is beautiful,
even if I can’t see it clearly
through the allergy apocalypse.
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