These meds in me, make me feel heavy.
They outweigh me, make my head wavy gravy,
like spaghetti.
Like I can’t see past twenty, and I’m forty
So, what does that make of me, mortally?
I want sexy meds, ones that light up my existence,
fill the world with hope, with magnificent brilliance.
The lithium weighs me down, and my head it feels granite.
Not the sexiest pill on the planet.
The other ones, they make me feel COVID.
Like is this a side effect, or is it the pandemic.
Never thought in 2020 I would be having this discussion,
whether its medication or a global pandemic
that got me suffering.

Alas I persist, got things on my list to check off.
Got places to see, when the CDC permits me to take off.
Got a dumpster fire brewing,
which orange blister do you want to see,
The one who is running the country
like a failed enterprise,
or the other guy?
What really seems right at this time?
I get political to a point,
I get the broken handshakes, the twisted ties,
I feel the governments eyes on me,
eyes on you, and its lies, lies, lies.

And I want my sexy meds.
Is that too much to ask?
I want that medicated sedation Joey wanted.
Maybe I just want my mind back,
A little mania in pill form,
cause Man the Storm can’t perform the norm.
If he takes the blue pill or the black pill,
what makes the storm?
My meds they aren’t sexy,
Not street quality, not one that you buy
in large quantity from a guy named Monty
from the back of his Ponti, or Cutlass
No, these meds make me feel nothing.

Just a headache, constant malaise,
and a whole lot of lack of lovin’.

 

Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly. His new book is Train of Thought.

 

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