Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Write or Cry

There is the me I imagine myself to be
a dream, a wish, a vision
And there is the me in practice,
sometimes petty, often weary.
I take them both to the pharmacy
And let them duke it out.
I take them both to the pharmacy
Knowing no good has ever come
From going to the pharmacy,
Where the medicines are efficacious
But the processes
and always, always, always down computers
will make you seriously ill.
One me passes the time calling up stirring and inspirational heroes,
Their speeches and their wisdom,
How to translate the seeds they've planted in my mind,
To grow my own version of a better tomorrow.
The other resents the simple fact of being there,
The need, the expense, the people, the same, same, same, same, same, same, same.
These conjoined selves -- inescapable, untenable, intolerable
Follow me everywhere.
But drive me most mad at the pharmacy.

1 comment:

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