Sleepless in Sciatica

Some Amusing Poems Written During Lower Back and Leg Pain

A disobliging old Gentleman from Arabia
Said oh damn this painful Sciatica
The spongiform pressure on the blasted Nerve
Has drained me of my usual Vigor and Verve
Said that disagreeable old Gentleman from Arabia

Another gentleman from Attica
Said this tedious and persistent Sciatica
Has spread to my pubic Bone
Leaving me feeling rather alone
That desolate gentleman from Attica

A thick headed Dutchman from Pennsylvania
Said ach hier ist meine Sciatica
I shall go and dig a hole
And fill it with coal
To get my Mind off this verdammt Sciatica.

A fair lady of Alsace-Lorraine
Said, there is that wandering Pain
Sometimes in me foot and then in me Arse
Rendering me completely unable to parse
The prose of de Sade which many disdain!

Another Lady, an Incroyable of Paris
Said, I won’t bullshit you or put on Airs
But I have lost all interest in Fornication
Because the pain in my foot gives me consternation.
That unfortunate Lady of Paris!


Sing oh Muse, of the false Sciatic Nerve
Reporting false pain in the chambers of the leg,
Like unto the SIRENS which would ODYSSEUS deceive
With cries inchoate, cries of beings without souls,
Luring they would the Hero to a watery grave,
Or like Zeus when he took upon him the form of Bull
To rape EUROPA, island nymph fair of form and feature,
Rewarding she with the high and regal throne of CRETE,
And like, also, a lot of other high and CLASSICAL tales
Which I pondered when young was I, the Lady of Christ’s,
A promising Scholar as yet unattainted
By Sin, Death, Hell and treason to my martyred Liege,
Charles, who lost his head. Where was I. O yes
My nuts sometimes throb and then me buttocks
But as soon as I change my wonted position
My Foot becomes my Tutor, and I must cease
Writing Paradise Lost, and attend to the Brutish animal
That we all are condemn’d to be by high command,
And take another swig of Wine that clouds judgement,
And call to my Daughters for another heated Pad
Plucked from the flickering and hissing Fire
Like a soul freed from that more Venial punition
Which redeems through dampened flames the weaker sort
Who in life did fall yet did repent.
My ass hurts and so doth my Ball, but I must bear all
For SCIATICA is but a consequence of Adam’s fall.


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