Sickness will surely take the mind where minds don’t usually go.

Sick. Again. Pete said,
"...where minds don't
usually go," which begs
Why? Why would I
want to go there?
Give me The Acid
Queen, let mom smash
my mirror. Street
cleaner's coming, to
get debris. I think I'll 
lie in the gutter.

Once I had The Flu,
thought one night, 'I'm
dying' when fever took
me. I laid in bed reading.
Quarter century, more
has passed. How can 
Covid, Flu be more sedate
than some nameless bug
nibbling my joints,
scrambling my brain?

---

86/100
100 poems in 100 days [two weeks to go!]