THIS STUFF.” a poem 10/10/19 [Thursday]

“THIS STUFF.” a poem 10/10/19 [Thursday]

Yea, I’m SURE “all this stuff” gives (some) relief, psychological? but also tem por ary;

Of course,

Everything’sTemporary, ’causeLife’sShort, which doesn’tMakeTHIS STUFFex em plary.

It USED TO BE CALLED: “Snake Oil,” back “in the day,”

And THEN it got into “mainstream medicine” in the usual way,

Which was WITH THE HELP OF WEALTHY, GREEDY FOLKS,

Who LOVE TOplay “possum” & tricksOnThePublic, y’know, PrettyNastyJokes,

SLIGHT OF HAND and MAGIC TRICKS,

JustLike”TheSnakeOilSalesman,” who often picks,

On a LameBrained? person or someoneHeHas”planted,”

To PROVE that THIS STUFF (The Formula) is GREAT, and you take it for granted,

That with a few “tests” AND A Doctor’s Prescription,

IT WillCureAnything, from weak bones (30 years from now) to Mandatory Conscription.

WhichWasTheCaseWith “shark cartilage,” for strong bones when you’re old,

But something, YEAH, SOMETHING we’re NOT TOLD:

“This powder gets into your body and stays right there;

Who knows what it does, LIKE tooMuchCalcium , which can cause a flare,

UPinYourJoints, ’cause HowCanTooMuchPowder (like M.S.M.) be very good for you?”

Oh, well, I guess I’m just bein’ “BLUE,”

‘Cause Good, Ol’ Big John, well, he finally died,

After YEARS OF ASPIRIN use because HE RELIED,

On a doc’s advice to keep the blood thin

He died from nonstop bleeding; I just wish I couldA been,

THERE, to keep My Dear Uncle John to keep him away,

From starting “an aspirin regimen” eachAndEv’ryDay.

Oh, well, IthinkIalso REMEMBER WHEN We simply couldn’t afford all THIS STUFF,

Back when things were, I dunnoIguess FAIRLY TOUGH,

Tough enough that we DIDN’T have EXTRA MONEYforThisStuff, justForFood;

Now, however, IF YOU EVER GO INTO A DOC’S OFFICE, THERE’S THIS DUDE,

Usually kinda young and carrying a nice, leather, fleece lined suit case,

Of “modern medicinals,” “supplements&vitamins” & he has a kind, honest looking face,

And he’ll give you (and The Doc) some SAMPLES TO “GET YOU STARTED,”

Just like THE SNAKE OIL SALESMEN,* who (that’s right)

FROM OUR MIDST HAVE NEVER PARTED.

fin ♥

• – and drug “pushers,” who used to hang out on city streets; now, they don’t have to.

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