Man Flu and Bottom Masurgling

a cruel east wind blew
a cruel east wind flu
with snot-filled clouds
to rain its cruel snotty
rain all over me and

my living room is now
cratered like an alien moon
with crumpled crusty tissues,
alive with bacterium and
green with bogey gloop and

not to forget my poop,
explosive thunderous gurgling
as tummy tells bottom
to let rip with doomsday like
toilet-bowl breaking,
bowel-bashing masurgling and

i am choc full of chicken soup,
toast and bland accompaniments.
surrounded by nasal sprays
and other medicinal accoutrements,
designed to dull my symptoms
and steady this wretched ship

as i slip in and out of
consciousness, a martyr to
this dreaded disease that
you call manflu (which is
a disgraceful malign) i will
soldier on manfully and
given care and time and
understanding i may someday
be normal again.

in the meantime,
i will
with heavy eyes and through
cracked lips intone my earnest
manly prayer for influenza salvation.