Ah, those Immodium mornings...

Makes me remember something from many years ago, taking the love of my life to a month-long party in Mexico ... we were young and I was head-over-heels, and ... well, ok, it was Mexico and I wrote poetry ---


"When it's lomotil and neomycin time in Manzanillo,

I'll be lying in my bed and puking in my pillow*

I'll be sick as hell and want to die ...

but thinking dear of you."

*Yeah, I know it doesn't rhyme unless one is Spanish and the other English or vice versa -- but ahh, love is blind (and deaf and stupid).