Hay Fever, If Amy Lowell Had It

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Title:     Hay Fever, If Amy Lowell Had It
Author: Christopher Morley [More Titles by Morley]

Far away
In the third-floor-back of my skull
I feel a light, airy, prurient, menacing tickling,
Dainty as the pattering toes of nautch girls
On a polished cabaret floor.
Suddenly,
With a crescendo like an approaching express train,
The fury bursts upon me....
My brain explodes.
Pinwheels of violet fire
Whirl and spin before my bloodshot eyes--
Violet, puce, ochre, nacre, euchre ... all the other
Colours,
Including jade, umber and sienna.
My ears ring, my soul reels.
I tingle with agony.
Who invented goldenrod?
I wish I were dead.
Aaaaaaarrrrrrhhhaashoooo!

[The end]
Christopher Morley's poem: Hay Fever, If Amy Lowell Had It

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