Virus

It hits you so hard
the snot’s knocked in-
to you, not out,
and all you want
to do is stagger to
your corner for some
relief, but no
one’s there.

Each punch lands. A shot
to the temple and lights
blind. A blow
to the nose and vision
blurs. An assault
to the chest and air
retreats. The legs
throw in the towel.

You’re on
the floor and the ten-
count lasts for
days.

When you finally
regain some sense
of balance, the bell will
ring again and that old
familiar foe charges in to
beat you
again.