Medicine (Poem)

 

Us Dallas gals and gents are quick to lend certain lessons on weathering Big D’s grit and grind

Raving rants at mucus-thick Metroplex traffic makes one maniacal.

Barreling towards the bastardly boss’ meeting surges the b.p. 

Performing torturous toil outside in our urban index will suck your soul. 

Thus, the natives recommend a steady regimen to cure achy bones. 

“Get that regular dose of nightlife in your system”—the kind composed of the booming bass and piercing treble. 

You and your crew, hit the sea of people and take every shot passed through. 

Skylines of crystallized, green, blue, and white radiating your skin can replenish your Vitamin D.

So, say goodbye to 9-to-5 P.M. depression. 

Should this counsel not be enough to provoke the elevation of dreary eyes, induced by office conundrums, then look forward to drooping them even farther down. 

Endless arrays are Deep Ellum’s boasts—the party sector pledging you ample opportunities fill much-needed prescriptions. 

The yellow dress mistress, in all her ruby-lipped, intoxicatingly fragranced, shiny-haired glory and cloned posse have been waiting to do so, in your company since, 10 P.M.

From the Soul,


Published works: https://amzn.to/3gA4Dh3

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