Ban flu,
Man flu.
Aching head,
Bleary eyes,
Death lurking,
In disguise,
Under the bed,
What a surprise,
******* Death,
I’m going to rise.
No I’m not,
I flop down,
Head cushioned,
In eiderdown,
In the curtains,
Face of a clown,
In medication,
Senses drown.
I’m not dying,
I am in a state,
Snot and phlegm,
I ******* hate,
No latent desire,
To *******,
No appetite,
I’m losing weight!
I’m getting better,
Weak as a lamb,
A hot toddy,
A wee dram,
Man flu is real,
Not a sham,
Getting better,
The **** I am.
The fifth day,
What a-to-do,
So had enough,
Of feeling blue,
Death lost,
So go *****,
Getting dressed,
I am its true.
Man flu,
Ban flu.
© Paul Chafer 2014
Flu is sweeping Britain, brushing cobwebs from subliminal suicide, instilling the zest to live in some, carrying away the old and weak, best I can do, for now. Hope my poems improve with my health.