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“I Hope Your Life on Earth Expires Soon” and
“Typhoid”
By Curtis Honeycutt
____________________
I Hope Your Time on Earth Expires Soon
My perpetual disdain for you
Is only surpassed by the way
I loathe being struck in my lower extremities.
Go to the infernal regions.
Typhoid
Of all the words out there
I will use one hundred thirty-one of them
in this poem.
Pajamas was begging me
to be included.
Typhoid, however,
instructed me to leave him out.
Too bad, Typhoid.
You’re in my poem.
Typhoid, Typhoid, Typhoid.
While auditioning words
to appear in my poem,
I was pleased to learn
that there is a difference
between a summer Igloo
and a winter Igloo.
Here’s to you, Igloo.
You were a long shot, but you made it.
Of course the big players
are in this poem,
like In and And.
Those two have been
appearing in poems
long before the word Enron
was even a thought.
“Where’s Ron’s pancreas?”
“Enron, of course.”
That was, until Typhoid
Fever took over Ron’s body.
Typhoid.
One hundred thirty-one.
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Curtis Honeycutt is a sophomore at the University of
Oklahoma where he studies the backs of his eyelids. He enjoys writing poems
that aren't confusing—ones that don't require the use of a dictionary,
thesaurus, and a road atlas to decipher. Above all, Curtis likes to
breathe, and makes a point to do so as much as possible.
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