What Lurks in the Pharmacy
I finally went to the doctor to see about this thing that's been sapping my energy for the last two weeks, and it turns out I'm just experiencing a very stubborn and angry sinus infection. But my lungs are clear, huzzah! And double-huzzah for the drugs I can use to get the demons out of my head-cavities.
While I was waiting for the nice pharmacist to fill my goody sack, I browsed the nearby sale products and discovered things that probably should not be, like dinner plates threaded with lacy ribbons. When I found something that I thought certainly should be-- that is, a candle purporting to smell like raspberry cheesecake-- not even my congestion could save me from the ungodly stink. It still haunts me, clinging to my nose hairs and waiting to strike again in my moment of weakness.
Like any good bachelor of English, I have chosen to express my pain through an appropriated Japanese poetic form:
Dissembling candle,
Your promised scent is "cheesecake,"
Yet you reek of feet.
There, I feel better about it now.
While I was waiting for the nice pharmacist to fill my goody sack, I browsed the nearby sale products and discovered things that probably should not be, like dinner plates threaded with lacy ribbons. When I found something that I thought certainly should be-- that is, a candle purporting to smell like raspberry cheesecake-- not even my congestion could save me from the ungodly stink. It still haunts me, clinging to my nose hairs and waiting to strike again in my moment of weakness.
Like any good bachelor of English, I have chosen to express my pain through an appropriated Japanese poetic form:
Dissembling candle,
Your promised scent is "cheesecake,"
Yet you reek of feet.
There, I feel better about it now.