"Hand over hand up the lifeline,
luckily the knots stay tight.
Silhouettes of the two of us climbing,
climbing up a rope on fire."
--Mark Sandman (Morphine)
The sickness moves like a cautious snake.
First, it was the twinge of something in my throat.
Spreading.
The sinuses were next, coming and going during the days and nights,
until finally the fever. Hot and bitter, like Summer without end.
Five days coming and now I'm about out on my ass;
and the Indians warm up in the cages only an hour away.
:getting sicker:
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