Doctor, doctor
I feel melancholy.
Incessant imperative of money
is feeling like a burden too heavy.
The doctor asked questions,
said a few things,
and
wrote the prescription:
Diagnosis:
Helminthic cerebral infection
with Ethics and Morality
Rx:
Anti-helminthic: Mebendazole OD
Purgative: bedtime
Review: every week.
The invoice arrived
for a thousand pounds:
Listening: £200
Speaking: £300
Diagnosis: £300
Prescription: £200
He is a patient no more,
completely cured
into a perfectly agreeable,
bribeable
public servant.