There are many things going on
yes, I could be more specific,
but then the details would be 
more than the body could carry,

which body, which day, which many,
I have no more for you, ownership being
what it is and clichés riding convenient 
horses across the minutes that I could 

have counted, but obviously didn't
you're chewing, typing;
I'm sniffling, griping,
such is the wonder of ailment

when one more consonant 
might have me sailing, mailing, tailing,
instead I sneeze again
wondering what smells smell like

wishing my ears were the ones
that decided to take the week off.