No one wants to check into
the SARS hotel.
Mandatory surgical mask required,
as though that will protect you.
Queen size deathbed in every room;
you can rent a cot for the kids at $20.00 bucks a night.
There are no “magic fingers.”
The children had their last
pillow fight weeks ago.
The silence prepares you for your impending death.
Friends don’t come to visit,
but they’ll send you a card.
It will arrive a day too late.
No one gets to check out of the SARS motel.
Someone will carry them away.
This poem is copyright 2003 Alex Sandell [All Rights Reserved]. If you copy this without my permission, SARS will be the least of your problems. Trust me.
This poem was best viewed with the "Chiller" font. If you viewed it with some generic font, you are a stupid moron who sucks monkey-ass.
Sucking monkey-ass is probably what caused SARS in the first place. Ya damn horny bastard. Monkeys are created for humans to take photos of, when they're busy picking their butts!
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