a spread sheet of my prescriptions.
a grid
with times
and
amounts,
all staggered accordingly
to the doctor's
order.
take this,
sip this,
once in the morning,
once at night,
twice
daily.
they're all in a row
on the round
table in
the dining room.
the paperwork,
the boxes,
the small brown jars
of jagged
little pills,
some white, some blue,
some
shaped like
spacecraft over Nevada.
i'll be
eight miles up in the sky
before noon
on an
a hallucinating binge,
flying
high with a smile on my
face in the medicinal
wind.
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