Pushing Pills

Written
2009

 Sundays used to be paper in bed

     and a cup of coffee peaceful mornings.

Maybe a greater if 

       someone made breakfast.

Now Sunday morning is pill-pushing time.

Pillboxes with days marked

     with most appropriate large print.

Each Sunday pills for

        seven days are measured out.

And each Sunday the boxes

      are optimistically filled.

It is as if the filling of each box is a warranty

     for another week of life.

There red pills, for... now what is it for?

And the green are two a day.

Is it morning and night or

     two at night?

Oh well, so long as the dreaded disease

     is fed the poison.

I take the pills and

     I am still alive.

There seems to be a relationship,

     which makes my doctor seem very smart.

 

But what if it is a scam

     between the pharmaceutical companies

     and doctors?

What if all these pills are outrageously

     expensive placeboes?

It may be true.

Sounds like American greed.

But they use their knowledge

      of Depth Psychology and

      then to them it is

     no secret that I strive for immortality.

I will take their darn pills

     and dream of being 100+.

Promise me anything less than that

      and I will flush the pills down a thirstier throat.

Notes
Neither published nor submitted