Pollinated

All of the grasses and every single tree

thinks now is the time to pollinate me.

I'm not a plant, I've no stamen nor pistil,

but thanks to this mucus my nose makes a whistle.

I cough and I hack, I sneeze and I wheeze.

But the allergens won't stop, not even for 'please.'

I take my meds every goddam day,

I pop my pills and use a nasal spray,

but still, my eyes are itchy and red;

each and every morning I think I might be dead.

When will it end? When is it done?

I'm longing for summer's hot, killing sun.

It bettered end soon, for I've had enough.

For now I'll sign off: sniffle and snuff.