The flue octopus

No taste
No smell
My sinuses are glued

No smell
No taste
No food
Just pills

Dizzy with pus
Pounding in my ears
No smell
No taste
An anchor carrying on my neck
I sink into a long night
I crumble through the floor’s cracks
I flood my neighbor’s ceiling with my loneliness

No taste
No smell
I sniff the perfume bottles
No hope!

3 thoughts on “The flue octopus

  1. Louis Kasatkin

    Mordant wit and self-deprecating humour all topped off with something that is akin to ennui.Ennui itself would be far too upbeat for this tragedian discourse so skilfully applied like a switchblade knife in the dark.

    Reply

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