So what can you do with feverish?

Please post your 200 words (no more!) by clicking the comments link at the bottom of this post, keeping in mind The Rules.  Next Sunday evening 6/16/13, last week’s winner Pooka will read the entries and select a winner.

Invite a friend to write – the more the merrier!

[Click the comments link below to read entries and discussion.]


19 thoughts on “feverish

  1. Pennant Feverish, Perhaps

    Baseball: inertia with its own rules, and a score.
    Major League millionaires, sweating with impatience, wonder when they will throw their next shutout or swat the next homer. They chomp their sunflower seeds as they pace the gray dugout, lethargically patting teammates. The manager wears a sour mask, and the coaches are as tense as generals.
    The home team has a one run lead.
    Of course the crowd cheers no matter what happens, but even still they hope that all of this will add up to something. Organ music flares up, and the sun emerges from sodden clouds.
    Then the other team’s most expensive slugger comes up to bat, and pounds the first pitch. He trots toward first base.
    Our man in right field runs for it, hopeless as it appears. Diving, sliding on his chest across the astro turf, arm aloft, displaying the ball like a precious egg. Third out.
    The roar follows, and the locals begin to think that this year might add up to something after all.

  2. Pooka, you picked a hard word, brutha. I’m coming up blank.

    Interesting sports take, John Dutterer! This is a more pleasant notion of ‘feverish’ than I was expecting!

  3. Feverish beavers swirling around and around
    Smack smack
    Goes the mud.

    Their dams are gold and purple.
    They play baseball
    Football and tennis
    And checkers.

    1. Sam, this is an interesting juxtaposition of imagery. Beavers would have to be pretty feverish to accomplish all that.

  4. Feverish Winner
    Car, baby, highway:
    Early circumcision appointment!

    Eating handfuls of trail mix
    In a desperate attempt to cover
    The mounting guilt with something

    Eyes slide to the time
    Fast lane
    Circumcision appointment!

    Rush hour traffic
    Mounting guilt
    Chainsmoking gumballs
    Circumcision appointment!
    Directions are wrong
    Eyes slide to the time
    Turn around
    Guilt mounting
    Flash flood warning
    Low fuel light
    Circumcision appointment!

    Torrential rain
    As if my insides have spilled out
    Onto the road in front of
    Me—-emergency blinkers are
    Flashing all around
    Circumcision appointment!

    Okay—fever has stabilized
    Baby is asleep
    $9 in the tank
    deep breath
    going home

    1. Wow, you’re not gonna believe this, but I was actually contemplating an entry based on circumcising a baby as well! I like this a lot. One detail I enjoy is the repetition of “eyes slide to the time” It sounds nice with all the, what do you call it with repeated vowel sounds, not alliteration but something else. The rain in spain.

      Anyways, mine’s not going to be as good as this, but now that I mentioned I’m gonna have to produce it!

    2. Oh I was gonna say also, it’s a shame The Rules say you have to actually include the theme word. This piece doesn’t need it, it expresses the theme so well. You could just slap a title of “Feverish” on there, and take it out of the poem, and it would still work great.

  5. Feverish

    Walk in, skoot down, stand still, sit down!
    Sweaty palms, nervous twitches, pent up energy as each name is called.
    Impatient, shaky, anxious whispers, itchy clothing, sitting still to long.
    Simple excitement, ripples, a rising tide, a crowded field, our stage is set.
    So hard we’ve worked, not always with blood, but plenty of sweat.
    We’re on our way, the road starts here, some are happy, some filled with fear.
    The band plays as speeches are read, some of us wish they’d rush ahead.
    Gleaming eyes of friends and family, some with tears, or we’re the ones crying.
    Joy fills those who barely made it this far, and those who shot beyond their star.
    A hush and now the real fun begins, stand up, march forth, the stage is set.
    Our names, pronounced right, we walk across, give our caps a toss.
    The last bit done, pictures and leis, and other fun, and now?
    Finally, here I am, your graduate.

  6. About a week after the birth of our first, we finally had the appointment for his circumcision. We went to the doctor, handed over the baby, waited a while, and got back a baby. “Don’t change his diaper for at least four hours.”

    “That was easy,” we thought. When we got home our little hellion was strangely calm. Growing quiet, and even lethargic. “Does he have a fever?” No, he’s just quiet.

    Finally, it was time for the first diaper change — time to see what man hath wrought. To our shock, upon opening the diaper, we saw that it was blood. Not just bloody, it was blood. Blood past the the diaper’s capacity to saturate; a substrate of coagulated greyish-purple blood beyond the diaper, with a molded cavity reflecting a perfect negative of the little baby boy bits around which the oozing blood had turned to pudding.

    Feverishly on the phone with the doctor! “Doctor, our son is bleeding! His diaper is totally full of blood! Is he OK? What do we do?”

    “Really? Well, when we circumcised him, there was a cyst; we must have nicked it. If he’s stopped bleeding he’ll be fine.”

    “Oh, ok then.” Click. Thanks a lot, doc.

  7. Okay, I think time’s up. I thought for sure this word would garner a lot more entries than we saw this week. No huhu, however. What we got was diverse and interesting.

    Rube got points for raised eyebrows and a feverish ending.

    The Rat gets a gold star for reminding me of my own feverish experience 20 some years ago (and I’m glad to have witnessed hers just a few days ago).

    John Dutterer quite captured the deceptive tension that is often more feverish for the fans than the players, I think.

    Sam W.D. gets my honorable mention for the curveball that made me blink and think.

    Amy W. is this week’s winner with a frantic thread of chaotic dodges and spins that almost stammer feverish on every line. That was a good one for sure!

    1. I agree! Great job Amy W! (And I like how you said something nice about everybody)

      Mr. Write200, I think it would be helpful if you could lay down a specific time Eastern or Pacific to be the deadline each Sunday “evening”. I found myself feverishly typing away Sunday afternoon, wondering if it was evening enough on the east coast that I might get cut off.

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