Cover art for The Anatomy of a Sneeze

The Anatomy of a Sneeze

by Nisfish

Published October 18, 2026

E - Everyone

In Poetry

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The orange of evening gracefully laid.
The sun descended to the western horizon.
The garden swing near where I stood
swayed in the gentle breeze.
I rested my hands on my knees with a sigh,
thinking about my future—
when I leave my city forever,
to dwell in a place aloof and far from where I came.
The sealed boxes on the floor pulled me in,
toward the shadow of paperwork awaiting in a new city.

​"Hs-Hs"—pepper slipped into my nose, but I didn't sneeze.
Its spice dissolved in my throat,
laying out a long red carpet for its feet to tread.
As I waited for the burst, hyperawareness took over.
"Ha-Ha-shi," I practiced in my mind.
​Then my eyes shifted toward—

The bonita lift of a grand, sparkly bald head,
shining brighter than my own future.
A round, red man—
lashes fluttering on his upper cheeks, sweet sweat wearing down.
Exhaustion flowed off him as he jerked it away
with a sigh superior to the world.

​I watched his performance like a ghost,
eyes fixed to their goal, head locked onto its sneeze,
While I unconsciously nodded to his poise.
​A couple stood statically on the other side.
Another girl winged the eyes of a thin friend who waited too patiently.
"... “— ... a”— “ ... eh”—.“Ahh!"
Her partner—a bowl-cut boy—screamed as he tripped over a pebble he tried to kick.
​Swift as thought, his partner caught him without moving an inch—
falling toward the charming man he tripped for.
Like a prince falling toward a shiny-headed princess,
whose bottom was cloaked by a falling leaf, draped into a princess gown.
And he shined brighter—dramatically scrumptious.

​I tried to unlearn the vision, but failed cruelly.
My sneeze was almost there—1, 2, 3... soon.
​Beside me stood my nephew with his phone,
quietly clicking a picture like a mysterious shadow of a shrimp.
He captured the worker's face, adding cartoonish plump lips and glittery whiskers.

​A few steps back, my daughter stood on the verge of tears,
wiping the grief from her glossy eyes,
sharing farewells with her friends—one open-armed, the other sobbing aside.
A few steps hence, my son bent his knees
to test the stretchability of his jeans, eyes wide as eggs.

​My sweet little dog sat on the grass near his bowl.
And the food inside—
an artistic, homemade dish sleeping so plainly, so flatly, so lamely,
That I wanted to kick it all the way to Antarctica.
Taking in the sight, my dog sweetly decorated its beauty with a dry leaf,
wearing a smile that was anything but happy.

​Overhead, sharp-beaked crows fought:
"Oi, I'm the Lord!" — "No, I am!"
They laughed like pirates in a voice that rolled, fell, and broke—
eyes like bullets, ready to flip the world upside down.

​I didn't find it humorous—not really.
But it made it impossible to pause for my sneeze,
as if they might puncture the air and tickle me from within.

​The whole scene turned slappable as I tilted my head—no offense intended.
It didn't make me angry, just pulled silly faces—
slow-motioned, like laughing at 0.05× speed.
I looked around. I looked at myself.

​"Ah-'Ah-Shi!" I sneezed.
​Without a second of relief,
I erupted into a horrendous laugh,
through my nose and mouth.
Everyone turned to look at me,
shrinking into tiny dots.
My eyes swelled with tears,
but the moment lingered,
as if it would clumsily sit beside me,
Without doing anything for how lame it is.

​The picture circled in my mind.
Standing at the north, reaching its closest proximity,
embracing sweat, laughter, and stretchable jeans.
I joined the madness right after the sneeze—wheezing,
Wanting to do everything: spin around, sit down, breathe.
​What a sneeze it was.
I’ll remember it for years and years hence.

And nobody around would even know
Why I even laughed.

Comments & reviews · 2
Therwormwriter wrote a review Review · Oct 20

This is a very detailed poem, and I very much so appreciate the detail that goes into this poem. It also is humorous, something I find the poetry community (me, I'm talking about myself) needs more of. I honestly think it's better then something I could write, so I cannot truly critique it. The exaggeration really sells it as well, like the word erupted instead of anything simpler

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ArdenJinn
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ArdenJinn commented Comment · Oct 18

Nisfish. I must congratulate you for breaking the system. 137 points!

Nisfish replied · Oct 19

? I really don't know about the points system though 🥶

ArdenJinn replied · Oct 19

It's how many points a reviewer earns for reviewing a work. Poetry is always 125 points when it's in the Green Room and I got fed up with that and wrote a really long poem to try to break that. You unknowingly did it!



When the microwave blew up, I was in my room reading comics. My entire family turned into superheroes. Only I remained completely normal…
— Norman Normal (1999 series)