The little round pill makes
me glow.
The slightly smaller round pill
makes the other pill
palatable. The one shaped like
home plate
stirs the pot, gives me poems
like manticores.
I can mix and match or take a
fistful of one.
In this way my body, my lab,
is open round the clock.
I would welcome you here but
I have little time
for integration. I must keep
up with the pills,
my changes, and the utter need
that stings me
like a shock. Like a shock it is
prescribed, a treatment, an end
in itself.
The blue pill is for the end in itself.