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“Pollenhate”
You’re a ham fisted, nostril puss, put off.
A suffocating, son of a bitch.
A red-eyed, torn membrane, scratchy gulch.
Itchy pyrrhic sandpaper senses,
begetting a breathing tragedy.
Comfort, an oasis, yearning for the first frost of winter.
Dirty seed, blowing to the winds, blowing from the trees.
Blow me!
Grizzly gross green.
Headaches thumping.
Kleenex pumping.
Burst pipe nostrils.
Sinus clog, green-yellow eyeliner.
Sophisticated spores spawning misery.
Crusted, nasal mineshaft vein,
haunted by cemented boogerplasms.
Nose hair tendrils throughout, impossible to retrieve without a monumental effort.
A quick blow, or two,
A Rorschach tableau, if you will?
Winds of seasons change,
a necessity now,
not just a want.
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One response to ““Pollenhate””
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I too pollen hate.
Hello,
I’m Christopher Paul Hickey
Welcome to ProCrassTheNation.com! This is the commonplace where you will find my writing, my poetry, my thoughts, and all the things that swirl around my creative sphere. I invite you to peruse the site to your heart’s content. I promise there is a bit of something here for everyone. I appreciate your time and look forward to your repeated visits where you will always find something new.
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