Ode To my Neti Pot

Let's be honest - I don't know how to write an ode. I don't think I've ever read an ode except perhaps John Keats' Ode on a Grecian Urn because it was on every English major's syllabus.

The dictionary states that an ode is a type of lyrical verse, so, okay, maybe this isn't an ode. But an ode is also an "expressive of exalted or enthusiastic emotion." So heck..maybe I am writing an ode. Because I am damned exalted (rapturously excited) over my Neti Pot.

My Ode That Isn't An Ode

Last winter it started with a little pain in my face.

I thought it was my tooth, so to the druggist I did race.

"It is a sinus infection," she explained in gory detail.

"I've never had one before," I sniffed. Did she just want to make a sale

of Mucinex and other pills that will keep away the snot.

"Not at all," she then did sigh and suggested the Neti pot.

"The Neti who?" I asked in complete pharmaceutical confusion.

"Don't you watch Oprah?" she asked, thinking it must be my delusion

that I don't know what everyone knows

"If Oprah says it, it must be so."

"Oh," I muttered, not  sure what in the hell that meant.

I grabbed my purse, gave her a look and off to aisle five I went.

The Neti pot for those not sure is a genie lamp at best.

You fill with salty water, sticking the spout.......surely they jest!

They want me to stick the spout up one stuffed nostril side

and then watch with complete amazement at what drips out the other side.

Only this time not just water will you see come out of you.

But things inside your cavity, good grief is that a screw?

Not a screw and not a clue did you have there was so much crap

inside your face, it is no wonder it hurt to close your yap.

Down the drain with a resounding plop, newly released from their cilia hell

You'll notice when you finally stand, you'll breathe and you'll feel....


well, that's the best I can do.