Thank God for minor tragedies,
how else to lubricate the sinuses
through the varying fluctuations
in barometric pressure.
Married men and allergies
and a nose bestowed by Poland,
I should have invested in Kleenex
and not in that new outfit.
It must have been a sign
when I smelled a skunk beforehand,
but now I’m simply stuffed with
snotty implications.
