A Poem: Snot Rocket

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m overjoyed that I had a septoplasty and sinus surgery this summer.  I can finally breathe and no longer live in a state of infection.  But, y’all . . . this poem expresses how I feel about my new found ability to properly drain.

I am a snot rocket
fueled, launched, and propelled
by the boogie saturated tissues in my pocket
blowing enough green globby mucus
to turbojet me past Jupiter and crash land on Saturn’s icy rings on my tookus
the lack of atmosphere triggers a sneeze
just like whiffing the earthen aroma of freshly mown grass on the breeze
my subsequent blustering, a trumpet’s blare,
stuns the sun’s surface into forty-four trillion solar flares
the violent discharge leaves me airless and spacey
and in perilous need of a UFO taxi to get me home safely  
before I know it, I’m drowning in my own phlegm again
and shout to the constellations, black holes, and dwarf stars at large to help me drain
a comet throttles by and in its wake leaves boxes of Kleenex
providing me enough ammunition to refuel my rocket and rise from the ashes like a phoenix  


6 thoughts on “A Poem: Snot Rocket

    1. I’m not going to be able to accept. Sorry to take it back. I don’t follow enough people who have less than 200 followers. I don’t have enough people to nominate to participate! What a quandary!


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