Glen Martin Fitch


ALLERGIES Poem by Glen Martin Fitch


It doesn't have to be
a germ at wait.
Just anything
my body thinks is strange,
some substance
I inhaled or touched or ate
and instantly
my body starts to change.
My skin grows hot or cold.
I sweat or shake.
My head
becomes too heavy for my spine.
I gag.
I gasp.
My muscles cramp and ache.
All this
for what may really be benign.
I marvel at
each ready white blood cell.
I'd give them
shiny metals to parade.
They're on patrol
for agents to dispel,
defend me well
and seek to be of aid.
We must maintain the best defense
and yet our fear
might be more harmful
than the threat.

Submitted: Thursday, October 17, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, October 23, 2013

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