Medical Shine
The days speed up
agreed to by my pillbox
full pockets of time
and time-released
joy and sorrow
it dispenses daily
as if some lead-footed driver
moonlighted as a dealer
modern moonshine
that rushes on the highways
which creates this new sport
for the masses at racetracks
Hopped-up vans
with delivery drivers
who toss secret packages
to the aged and infirm fans
as they round the track
at broken back speeds
full of those little rainbow
enticements to feel better
feel good or feel normal
delivered to the pharmacy
No need for hidden tanks
No worries for revenuers
waiting in the dark
No moonless shootouts
in the deep mountain hollows
shouting epithets
from behind the trees
I watch the cheering thousands
from the stands
waiting for their meds
the tiny miracle cures
promised by great pharma
who live gloriously behind
legality guaranteed
by government
cheated for the pleasure
of fat kittens of industry
their yachts swaying
in warm waters
Barry G. Wick
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