Head cold

This entry is part 24 of 91 in the series Toward Noon: 3verses


The house is pinned
under heavy snow.
My head fills with mucus.

Icy limbs strain
to reach the ground,
alternately melting and freezing.

I drip in the noon-time glare.
Let me be replenished
in nightly increments.

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Dave Bonta (bio) crowd-sources his problems by following his gut, which he shares with 100 trillion of his closest microbial friends — a close-knit, symbiotic community comprising several thousand species of bacteria, fungi, and protozoa. In a similarly collaborative fashion, all of Dave’s writing is available for reuse and creative remix under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License. For attribution in printed material, his name (Dave Bonta) will suffice, but for web use, please link back to the original. Contact him for permission to waive the “share alike” provision (e.g. for use in a conventionally copyrighted work).


    1. I’m not the world’s best speller, so this sent me to the dictionary. The American Heritage Dictionary, a good guide to usage on this side of the Atlantic, has “Mucus (myo̅o̅′kəs). The slimy, viscous substance secreted as a protective lubricant by mucous membranes.” So I guess you’re right — I should lose the o. Thanks.


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