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NIGHTMARE SOCIETY 1 of 3 entries into a Migraine Poem Contest
Welcome to the Nightmare Society.
For here you have been thrown, capitulated.
Still, only after the most grueling of initiations.
We are a non-discriminating society,
with various breeds sharing a similar history.
Our shared torment fueling instant bonds.
However, mere headaches need not apply.
We are migraine connoisseurs.
Oh yes, we believe in nightmares,
and not the dreaming kind.
We live with them, in them, and despite them.
Ironically, it is at times sleep that brings sweet relief.
But don’t count on anything but the misery,
she doesn’t disappoint.
Triggers to our affliction is a loaded 9mm Berretta.
17 in the mag, 1 up the pipe.
Like all lethal weapons, it delivers
efficiency, accuracy, and agility.
Members are of course wearing the requisite bull’s-eye.
Shhh!
Every individual strike of the keyboard
bears the resemblance of 100 jackhammers
singing in torturous unison.
Wait, what was that?
Oh, thank goodness, it was nothing,
just the cacophony of papers moving.
Kiss each of these tasteful treasures goodbye.
What? No! Coffee, please stay.
And now the amputation of Coca-Cola.
So long wine, nice seeing you cheese.
Nuts! Yeah, we have to part too.
Until we meet again chocolate;
Talk about sweet sorrow!
But please make the necessary preparations,
for these interludes can range from a simple 2-day fling
to a week long love affair with this hurtful lover.
First comes the coy and toying flirtation,
moving on to the excruciating foreplay,
bringing you to the turbulent fusion of the act,
with all of its agonizing multiples;
leaving you at once spent and unfulfilled.
Don’t forget about the aftermath.
Yes, the distressing aftermath,
resembling the tornado’s destructive ejaculation.
Hoping against hope there will be enough time,
just enough time between storms to enjoy the reprieve.
Watching weather reports through a discerning filter.
Numbers of barometric readings, pollen count, and precipitation chances
all spinning like the wheels of a slot machine.
It’s jackpot yielding the combination to your cranium’s locker.
Knowing all the while your own prediction of storms is dead-on accurate.
We live with irony continually.
Chuckling to ourselves because skipping meals, stress, and losing sleep are inductors.
And predictably this vicious circle has no ending and no beginning.
These very trigger traits are also symptoms of our affliction.
The migraines causing all our senses to be renamed Judas.
Let’s give one example to an initiation scenario.
Walk into a party hazed with smoke,
catch the bright spotlight from the band in the corner,
the amplifier seemingly directly connected to your chair
as you sit next to the gent or lady emitting noxious fumes by some designer or other.
The food cannot touch your buds since all signals are otherwise occupied
in keeping what morsels passed your lips from making a round trip.
Finally, you wipe your fevered brow with a napkin containing all the properties of sandpaper.
No dues necessary for this association, they are prepaid.
Please take your fellow members’ offer of comfort filled with fortitude.
Lay your head down, and close your eyes,
Though feeling like a black hole, we are never left in solitude.
