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A cold has fallen in love with me.

He is obsessed really. I tried
to dissuade him;
hung garlic around my neck,
slept with a giant comforter wrapped
around me so that
he wouldn’t get to close.

Still,

there he was in the morning.
I tried covering myself with Vic's
Vapor rub, and drank hot toddies
sure that such behaviour would
repulse him. Slicked up and drunk,
gross and snotty. I was sure
I had driven him off. Yet

when I awoke

he was still with me. He whispered
of how he’d like to be inside of me,
be part of every breath I took,
of how he wanted fluids to explode
… out of orifices!!! (okay that part was probably one
of those things your not supposed to repeat)

All of this attention …
… my eyes started to water
my temperature rose,
I even started to sweat.

Yes – I had fallen for him too.

Hilarious and WELL done, Cate!!!
No time to break it down to individual lines, but all of it... well, love all of it.

Thank you Lizzy, it was a just for fun poem and a chance to complain.

Sadly, colds are fickle and he's left me for my own husband.

Hahah. Geesh

Wonderful. ...sexy and funny, and your comment even funnier--perfectly witty for the poem.

It's rare to come across comedic poetry, particularly with a bawdy twist. Nice job. Good rhythm in it too.
Or, not comedic, but lighter subject-matter, which after all is the real pedestrian stuff of our lives. Shakespeare and Bob Dylan are just full of that everyday, slapstick, dead-serious, sensual banter.

(I needed that today!)

Marcia

Thank you Marcia, that was a very kind comment.

You deserved it, Cate

Cate, why not include your subsequent comment on how it left you for your husband once all passion was spent?

Hahah... great idea, Jonnie.

It is a good idea, but I've already written about finding him in bed with Irving Layton - coverless ... I don't want anybody to think he's a tart.

xxx
I enjoyed your struggle, Cate.



Mat.

xx
Thanks Mat