Thursday, April 16, 2015

Poem a day 2015: 16

Secret Fever

I have brought my fever
to campus
and my infant cough,
now just a tickle,
a little
at the back of my throat.

I have brought my stuffy nose
and the constriction
between my eyebrows,
pulling my eyes
together and back,
sinking them in the
gray memory foam
of my quiescent brain.

I am holding myself ready
for the flu’s full
here in my office,
the way I might await
the eventual knock on my door
of a long lost lover
who hurt me and
who has been hiding himself
in Brazil,
or Antarctica,
for twenty years.

I am alone here,
keeping my fever
at the back of my head,
like the promise of
a drink -- something
intoxicating and
waiting with the dusk,
and my home’s inviting
yellow light,
to take me in.

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