It’s not every day
I’m in terror to feel
A sneeze creeping in while holding the wheel
Eyes shut completely
And when they resume
Relief fills the place that sheer panic consumed
Biological warfare
Prepared unforeseen
Blisters the ambiance before then serene
Crackling through space
At disquieting speeds
Not what anyone wants, nor what anyone needs
Traveling a distance —
Of six feet, of course —
Inducing commotion with zero remorse
But hurling that blast
Of black matter, you see
Could lead to a boisterous achoo-ing spree!
Oh, sneezy conundrum!
Suppress, or set free?
If one launches out, well, then God bless me!
Esti Stoian, 2021