the diseased mind of william hume.

–the diseased mind of william hume–
the story is true, the man was sick
he was diseased. how did he know?
well… it wasn’t a tummy upset
or a heart agog with wine, clogged with plaque
a liver drowning in brine, nor kidneys beaned with stones
or even feet swollen and abscessed, walking in an ironic drought,
–his teeth were loud from gout gums, iron deficient spine witha slouch–

he was sick from the heat
diseased
uncomfortable with it,
displeased
and so like a sun infected insect
scurrying madly yet tiredly
under a not so understanding sun
he dashed and darted into everything and everyone
made chairs uncomfortable to sit on
tables irresistible not to flip
everything left upside down
he was downright sick

but the right nature of his disease
were none of the symptomatic spells
casting palls on public paths

it was that his private fever
fell on everyone else
so he was sick because it was agreed

incurable because he was he

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