Sudden Outbreak of Rhymatoid ArtWriteUs; CDC Contemplates Next Steps

“We appear to be seeing a new rash of cases,” said CDC spokesperson Ima Ditz. “Rhymatoid ArtWriteUs is breaking out up and down the East Coast of the U.S., with suspected incidents popping up as far north as Portland, Maine and as far south as the Florida Keys. There is currently no vaccine available and none in the works.

According to unnamed sources, Ditz herself began exhibiting symptoms of the highly contagious disease, and was removed to a private facility of undisclosed location, against her will.

Bystanders at a local mall provided leads to her whereabouts;  scuff marks (indicating a struggle), believed from Roger Vivier or Christian Louboutin heels (size 36) were identified outside an upscale boutique.

The following message was found nearby, scrawled on a paper folded origami-style into the shape of a Louboutin peep-toe pump. It is believed to have been written by Ms. Ditz, providing insight into the symptoms of the disease.

Breaking news, 10:00 a.m. EST November 16, 2009

We recognize the signs you see,
(it may be rain; could it be ME?)
you’ll note the verse itself creep in
whilst weary-bleary heads will spin,

and thus, vertiginous replies
result in crossing, crazy eyes,
inability to read,
worsening the rhyming deed.

Most of all you’ll surely note
speech that’s caught in voice or throat
bumbling, tumbling out of lips
rhyming-criming tawdry quips.

Often known to coincide
with sleepless nights that writers ride
up the crest then into troughs,
winding up with hacking coughs.

Bouts of versing have been known
to elicit teenage groan
whilst the parent drives to school
acting out the rhyming fool.

Also heard in moms and dads –
worse than all parental fads
to handle muddling through a day
of diapers, tantrums, fights and play,

not to mention teens and tweens
full of angst, dramatic scenes,
deafened ear to your requests,
as they get things off their chests…

Worst of all? Pain abounds –
joints on fire, stomach sounds,
and the fingers reach for pen
far beyond its normal ken.

Circling, scribbling doodles flair,
(art it’s not – let’s be fair)
and while wordsmiths wring their hands,
doctors frown and palpate glands,

which, for some, could raise a smile
if the fingers, sleek in style,
knew to drop a tad below
where said patients better show

how they keep “afloat” some days
through a life so full of grays.
Yo, but docs with skills so sweet
would be those to whom our feet

also would be placed before
knowing stroke (or high-end store)!
I’d submit my tippie-toes
decked in ruby red (not rose)

artfully attired to splay
heel and arch in fine display.
That, I think, might offer some
brief relief, albeit dumb,

a little grin (perhaps a smirk)
so we don’t get lost in work
or drown ourselves in worried face
despite the stage, the time, the place,

and after all, even from beds,
told we doth “exhaust your heads”
we are ever more the same
stuck on keyboards, held to blame

for misdeeds, misquotes and more,
needing, wanting raucous roar,
peals of laughter, furrowed brow –
as you wonder “if” and “how,”

and again, we touch on tears,
seek to share your hurts and fears,
writers, yes, an eerie breed,
silent while we write and read,

wanting every well to fill
with our words, as wonders thrill.
Thus it is, susceptible
such wordy souls, receptacle

to dreams (our own), and painting yours
rather than addressing chores…
Ach! Damnation! Where’s my cure???
(Even rhyming, thoughts impure

dally through insipid verse –
Monday morn, it’s so perverse…)
OH MY GOD – men in white coats!
Help me please! (I’m seeing goats!)

Telepathic S.O.S. –
Someone lift me from this mess!
Would that toga-wear they had,
I could be in footwear clad

to better deal with what may come
without being sad or glum!
Eeek! It’s time for quarantine…
CDC – where’s my vaccine!??

© D A Wolf