Twitter Sonnet #226
Gold runs green down papier-mache mountains.
Extra monkey clings tight to his old name.
Real and fake lands quake for one-eyed captains.
Mine carts bearing misfits seek a loud vein.
Liquid tartan's refreshingly Celtic.
While the Greek plate pita's buried in rice.
Tofu sinks in a thick sea of garlic.
Cookie fortunes are too often advice.
Moving corpses make their killers ashamed.
Island hermits can fear a cocoanut.
The innocent dairy is often blamed.
For crimes of the poisonous halibut.
Breakfast can take three hours to consume.
Now hoping nausea does not resume.
To-night was supposed to be my first night of class, but instead I have a stomach flu. Apart from how rude it seems to expose other people to the virus, I barely made it to the toilet after eating one Saltine cracker made me suddenly need to throw up for the second time to-day. There's a real chance of me throwing up all over my desk if I go. It took me three hours to get down a bowl of oatmeal this morning before it came back out again somewhat unexpectedly while I was taking a shower.
So, yay, I'm really sick and it wasn't my imagination, this stomach flu that could've done its business with me any fucking time over the past couple months without disrupting my school schedule. But whatever.
Thinking of the timeline of this thing, I may have caught it from my dentist, who'd told me she'd just been sick, or from the blueberries I had in my oatmeal on Friday, when I first started feeling what I thought was indigestion. Or maybe I caught it from Snow the Cat, who I saw had thrown up on the fence a couple days ago. Here seen on that same fence yesterday with a twig he was carrying around for some reason;
But cats throw up all the time, and supposedly its rare for virus transmissions to go between cat and man. Maybe I caught it from this spider in my bathroom;
He was the biggest I'd seen in some time, bigger than a quarter.