I am having the head cold from hyperbaric hell deja-vu ... and the partial soundtrack in my head is the beginning of that old 80's song "Under Pressure" sung by Queen with David Bowie.
Mm ba ba de
Um bum ba de
Um bu bu bum da de
Pressure pushing down on me
Pressing down on you
no man ask for
Under pressure -
Those lyrics and these two 100+ temperature fever driven poem-lets I wrote during my last achoo-vu just keep playing on in my poor pressure cooker of a noggin.
#1 - Snotty Head
Is the plural of sinus, Sinai?
Is Mount Sinai just a big hill of snot?
Is that why I keep thinking "HELP me Jesus!"
with all this head pound pounding I've got?
Is that the nails in his hands boom thud thudding at my face?
Is that his crown of thorns causing this headache
in my upper inner space?
I wish this influenza
were of a nicer kind.........
and not severely causing
this stigmata of my mind.
#2 - Martyr Express
I'm so tired of achoo-chooing
all over the friggin' place.
No, that's not a damn steam whistle,
its this nasal horn on my face.
My train of thought is just this cold my blood is taking chase.
I fear the Illness Limited
is still laboring
in second place,
with the Martyr Express
How come we don't have one of those little wobbly steam vents like my Rival pressure cooker has? Man oh man, do I need a release valve on my brain right now!