Thanks to jumaqui for the photograph.
I asked a hypochondriac
what could possibly go wrong
he said he couldn’t say it,
so he had to sing a song
off tempo beat and broken chords
rang out clear bright unshamed
of all disease – the sick and ills
within him were contained
he hobbled here and wobbled there
legs shaking and unsteady
a sickly slowly dying dance
for which I was not ready
his voice croaked out of foes unseen
dysfunctions massed apleanty
inside his mind the world should find
him lost in lepers gentry
he tipped his hat and said adieu
with a cough, wheeze, hack, and belch
that sickly liar!
he’s just a lowly welch!