Misery

Posted on February 24, 2004 in Pulmonary Weather

When the fires made it possible to observe sunspots with the naked eye, I did not choke, wheeze, or sniffle on the fumes. Today I went out after four straight days of cleansing rain. I came home. My eyes ran, burned, and squinted. Right now, my neck is sore, my shoulders heavy, and my hair clings to my skin.

After spending two hours outside of the house, I need a good ablution. Whatever blooms now hurts my skin, my eyes, and my lungs. Its grains, its dust, and its protein isotopes cling to my beard, my hair, my lips, and the microscopic furrows of the bag that keeps my muscles and guts from spewing all over. All must be purged before I scratch off my epidemis and walk around bloody-formed.

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Shortly after: Rejuvenation! All the breath of the new born grasses and the chaparral have been rinsed away with the suds. I shall sleep now, my hair will be wild in the morning, but I shall be well.