It’s both red and crimson
Same you say? But different.
It looks smaller than anything else you’ve prescribed
but in the end
it’s all just another cocktail -
a cocktail of substances trying to keep me alive
Lack of sleep is woeful
as a life of permanent jet lag
confuses the mind
like a heavy London smog
before they cleaned up their act
or for those unable to recall
Singapore enveloped in Indonesia’s haste
to burn all before them
satisfying the greed that the essence of palm
may grease the hands
of those whom welfare has forgotten.
I fear not.
250: get off the street!
Red welts and leg pains increase
as clots and other pulmonary concerns
caused by pollutents
send me deep into the intensive care of
expensive foreign concerns
This one is red and crimson.
Same you say, but different
trying to keep me sane.
Compounded, you assure
Confounded, I demure.
Will it give me rest
or merely knock me out
sending me to restless slumber
full of dungeons and dragons
and sick puppies all needing me to help?
Trust me, I’m your doctor.
Trust me, I have to take the infernal thing.
Sleep, o sleep, why hast thou abandoned me?
Shades of red and land of Nod
Copyright © Dennis Webster | Year Posted 2019