Work.

It feels good in my hand
Soft and squishy
but firm

The pill says Dquil
In neat, modern letters
I think of the factory where they made them
and picture the machines
and people on breaks
having coffee
or vending machine cookies

I hold it up to the light
and see it shine through
the blazing red orange
technology is beautiful
multimillions
made on our well-being
somewhere someone
can say “I did that.”
Motherfucker.

I think of the future
this could be food
a complete meal
a baconburger combo
kung pao chicken
with brown rice
dinuguan
filet mignon
toast with butter

For now it is hope
hope that it works
cures me of this
crazy, annoying thing
called sickness

Why?

Not coz I feel feverish
not coz I hate coughing
not coz I hate blowing
my nose of sticky
yellow snot

It’s ‘coz I have a kid
who can say
“I want to play with you, Daddy”
so freakin’ clearly
that it shatters my heart
into a million pieces
each and every millisecond
that I hesitate because
of my weakened condition

Gulp

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