allergen

 You can grab my collaborative chapbook "Misshapen Pears: A Musical" now. from Two Key Customs. It's a trip, I'm told (by this I mean I told myself). This drop also features some true heavy hitters and a who's who of Haiku enthusiasts. You should go and spend some duckets or clams or whatever currency you call your own.

pollen said
this is not the summer
and it is not a summertime cold

and it's not even a cold.
not at all.

I asked pollen if it made
a difference when it was
and what it was if I felt
like I had a cold.

pollen told me to shut
up and drink my hot tea.
it has big plans for the
two of us.
                

                my weathered
throat and mucus-laden
coughs shouted back:
no, we're really good. 
let's leave 'em wanting
more.

pollen is a railroad robber
barron, the show continues
and the scratching will 
persist and the congestion
will remain.

I say when we're done here, says pollen.

there isn't a big enough pistol
or missile or heat death ray,
no intrepid form of torture
quite bone chilling enough.

no, pollen deserves more misery
and destruction and tumult and
annihilation than is available
to us currently, but I'll keep
dreaming. I've got time and 
enough malice and just the right
amount of discomfort from pollen's
work in the devil's sensory break
room.
         I've got the fuel for eternal and
infinite use of the human spirit to build
something for revenge.

I'll find it yet. 

But first, does anyone have
some Claritin?