Hello, Mr. Pharmacist.
I'll have a Prozac sour,
or, better yet
a Zoloft dry with a shot of gin.
Anything to bring me to a comfortable numb.
I don't want to feel the bad,
I don't want to feel the good,
I don't want to feel.
Can you do that for me?
Mr. Pharmacist?
Also, I got a bad habit
of vomiting on paper that
turns into words when I wake up.
Do you have anything for that?
Or, better yet
Give me something that makes me
Puke my heart out on paper
or verbally.
Either one's good.
They've got to have something for me
in your medicine cabinet.
Don't they?
Mr. Pharmacist?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem