Citalopram

You can medicate the pain

but it won’t go away,

a bit like blunting the knife

you plan to behead yourself with,

while lining the pockets of senior executives

at expensive pharmaceutical companies,

you know,

the folks with an invested interest

in research and development,

new variations of Prozac

that refuse to list suicide

as a side-effect.

 

I yoyo on and

off my medication,

then back on it again;

the truth is

I don’t trust doctors,

‘cause even the good ones

need to treat you like a number,

and they don’t talk much about nutrition

at medical school.

 

Maybe medicine’s irrelevant,

empty and sentient

like alien head implants

from an advanced society

or ancient skulls

trepanned and vanquished

now on sale to museums

across the world.

 

We live and we die,

and somewhere along the line

we rise,

we shine

and we unify,

and I will share my food with hungry sailors

if they bring me news

from far-off countries.