I had a nasty case of food poisoning one day this past week, and during my nausea-filled afternoon nap, I dreamt I should write a poem about being sick. So then I woke up and wrote the poem below, inspired by a familiar Shel Silverstein work and my FIRST DAY as a new professor in Lioma. FYI: some of the poem is written in Portuguese, Mozambique's national language.
Sick in Mozambique
I cannot stay at school today,
Professora Katy tried to say.
"Estou doente, sinto-me mal,
It's best I go and rest right now."
The director tried to understand,
"Vais ao hospital," he said.
Professora Katy stammered, "Nah -
Ja tenho comprimidos... Em casa... Lá."
She trailed off as her face blanched,
"Tenho que ir" - then bounced in a flash,
Back to "lá," her new Lioma home,
Not far off the school grounds it was zoned.
Devo correr, she thought in English,
But the vigilant students would surely see this.
I must appear composed, Professora Katy thought,
So she instead walked very fast, and fought
The urge to vomitar, within the school grounds,
She could see her casa de banho now.
"Almost there, you can hold it Katy," she said.
But it was not meant to be, so instead
She projectile vomited all over the ground,
And the students looked away from the sight,
Nowhere to go from this but up, she thought,
And also she had shat her pants too.
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