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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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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