Better Pills

Some wee round pills, I took for my ills, and purple round pills but huge-er;
The ones that I had, when my back hurt so bad, I stood there and yowled like a cougar.
Steroids entered my life, to preclude the knife, when docs said that would be next.
Wife said she feared, whenever I neared; that protest I think just pretext.

Red pills and round the doctors had found, and oblong caplets of white;
When I garnered a hug from some little bug what fevered my blood one dark night.
Two hunnerd and ten when I walked in, the muscle and pounds slipped away.
My shadow though thin, it outweighed me when, at last, I ended my stay.

In sizes galore, pills in the store, found in colors and shapes to confuse;
Orange a bit ruddy, red dark and bloody, and lying, beguiling chartreuse.
You best be wary, damned things are scary, those caplets and capsules you’re tossed;
Whether triangles, they be, or rhomboids you see – imprinted, impressed, or embossed.

Most taste like bile or something as vile, not something you’d swallow for fun;
Seven day fish, an untasty dish, and something you’d much rather shun.
On your tongue taste remains, festers and stains, till exploding at once in your mouth;
The smell, oh it shocks, like yesterday’s socks, or the north of a horse headed south.

My current meds, per doctors and feds, do me no good you can tell.
One makes me sweat, one makes me itch, and one makes me ornery as hell.
I trimmed down the dose, monitored close, just one each morning and eve.
My muscles still twitch, still got that itch, and my nose still drips like a sieve.

Confused them one day, it shames me to say, took both of them pills at one sitting.
I sneezed and broke wind, but far worse my friend, my britches I ended up wetting.
Be careful with meds, they’ll booger your heads, and surely you know they’ll mess up it.
Take all at once, you silly damned dunce, you’ll dance like a mad string-ed puppet.

Need better pills, but not for my ills, just meds more fit to my liking;
I want the dose, albeit gross, to keep me from idiots striking.
One if you care, the one you could share, so the Pulitzer panel I’m moving;
And could you for fun, please gimme one, to help me leap just one tall building?

© S P Wilcenski 2020

Originally published on Prose 5-24-2020 with this note: My apologies to Robert Service.  This was an exercise to challenge and discipline.  If anyone snickers, beware.  I will hear, and I will find you.  Appropriate comments will find their way to your next post. (Sounds of demented laughter…)

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