Medication Junkyard

It’s a game I’m pretty good at; take a bite,
find the delight, crave it and just try
to walk away. You’ll cry all day
and night and finally cave and there
is always another doctor, another friend
to lend you the hand of helping, of relief
for at least a brief bit of now and then. Today
I threw away
a prescription, laughing as the remaining
tiny blue bits of nervous confusion
found their way to the dark waste
of some other receptacle – this time
refusing the contusion, the metal taste
of spectacle in a head that cannot sit
in meditation without spinning into
fear and hesitation, illusion and at last
the restless conundrum that becomes
my daily day. I threw it all away and start
anew tomorrow laughing rough over
strains of sorry when I let my doctor know
the sad truth of my tiny revolution.

About caroompas

musician, poet, songwriter, day job toiler, political junkie
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1 Response to Medication Junkyard

  1. teacher4hire says:

    Always impressed by good poetry – yours reads beautifully and effortlessly. You continue to impress, dear sir.
    – d

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