The flu. Had three versions of the flu, or three episodes of the same flu; does it matter? No orifice, no tract, no muscle, no tissue of my body escaped. For the last three weeks. Intestinal, three days. A brief break. Intestinal-head, three days. Brief break. Trip to Oklahoma, feel good, like a sunny clearing in a spell of gray stormy weather. Flight home. Southwest Airlines airplane packed full of coughing, hacking, invalids. Infected spume so dense that the flight attendants had to wear fog lamps on their heads to see up and down the aisle. Arrived home in Sprawling Suburb. Then: POW! Whole body experience. Fever, chills, shakes. Collapse onto living room couch. Sore throat. Coughing knifes chest with pain. I couldn't even get out of my clothes. Flat on back for two days. Wife has it, too; she, dropped motionless in bed. Malaise. No appetite. Struggle to drink water. Know I should. Fever broke after 36 hours. Yesterday - up and walking around, looking like death. Muscles rubbery and weak. I forced myself to wash sheets, towels, and clothes to rid house of hospital stink. I lost four pounds in two days; my wife, nine pounds. Today is the end of it maybe. Reduced to incomplete sentence blogging. Flagging concepts like a semphore. No point to this. No lessons. No analogies. No metaphors. No irony. Just flesh going rancid. Someone please sing to me of spring.