El Puerco, the Mexican flu
It arrived late in the afternoon
On the porch with the evening news
Without fanfare or a warning tune
Silently, on tiptoe in ballet shoes
a tragic villain, plotting chaos
In the corridors of useless dross
Floating into space an undetected
Virus soon to be resurrected
Assaulted my large intestine
Leaving me prostrate and very ill
The doctor came, prescribed a pill
Left me ravaged without question
Pallid, washed out, an old rag
I'm still alive, but I'll not brag.
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