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Dec 2013
I rasp when I talk
until
paroxysms shake me to be quiet,
like some impatient ill-tempered,
thing inside my chest where my lungs
were last seen breathing,
now they shake like cans of rusty nails,
and a sneeze,
                    and a sneeze,
                                       and a sneeze,
till I and Fifi, have to go outside before
one of us wets,
how are you doing you ask and show caring,
not wanting me to be sharing whatever it is I have,
I answer with a muffled sound,
like my nose was dropped and I sat down on it,
"Unwell, hankyou, por assking"


©DWE122013
Ottar
Written by
Ottar  where you will find me
(where you will find me)   
692
   Nat Lipstadt and ---
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