The Ongoing Series of Poems About the Autumn of 2005 Continues

September 29, 2005
Getting sick

illness numbs your capacity to see
to notice and most especially
to get to the chewy center of joy in things

aside from all your standard observable symptoms
your sore throat, your aching body, the special fatigue that weights your limbs
you’re walking around with a jar over your head

but you cut yourself some slack
forgive yourself for all the stuff you’ve missed
figure it can’t be helped

at least there’s still the spicy red germanium
the stream rising off the pasta in the colander
there’s still prose of course and split pea soup 

image source is here