I think I will but
maybe not,
I've got a dose of 'flu
I want to write
I really do
but ,
Flu!


I'm sat here in a woolly hat,
a thermal vest,
goose fat rubbed into my chest,
I don't feel well.

The doctor said,
I look like hell and
he would know.


Somewhere in the flow of me, the
sea of ink in which I think
evaporates.

What's left is salt and herbal tea, which
I brewed to drink and
think,
I think.


This cold has got the best of me,
I see a few days in my bed to cure
me of those red eyed blues,
'flu's no laughing matter when you're
getting on and the false teeth start
to chatter,
when the body aches and takes the goodness
out of every night,
when
really, I think that I should write, but
maybe not.