In-flew-enza, or was I dreaming;
last few days seem a bit vague,
aches, chains built-in bodily with
indolence leading – no dramas
there, it’s as-usual for a hermit
whose sphere’s unspherical but
now squared and cubed in this
unrelenting lassitude
Fevers play at fancy games and
icy chills apply a clamp to rising
out of noxious damp; today a
plight of drying out conspires in
zany, wet relentless sweat inside
as rules prescribed per se
© 7 October 2012, I. D. Carswell
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