Gerald sat on the settee
In his usual place,
A handkerchief to his
Runny nose
In the centre of his
Blubbery face.
Even his lips were fat,
His teeth, black
Half-way down,
His gums drowned
In mucus.
Gerald had the flu:
His whole body
From his swollen ankles
To his frog-like chin
Ached;
This he knew,
And wished
His mind,
For it was agile
And lithe,
Didn’t have to carry
His flabby frame
That needed food and rest
From day to day,
Cradle to grave.
At night Gerald dreamed
Of being a gas.
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