Monday, February 25, 2008

For a friend undergoing a terrifying health dilemma; kind of a review of old times.

Back In The Day

Certainly,
There were times we had
Some were good and
Some were bad,
Plenty of laughter
Back in the day,
Hanging out with
Uncle Jay,
Taking trips
On a wing and a dollar,
Years of study
From High School to scholar,
Then somewhere, someday
Fragments coalesce,
The chaos of life
Is no longer a mess,
The answer seems startling
Why, it took so long to know,
That all the pieces were important
In this emotion picture show.

Fibril_late;
2/25/08

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

I started working again. In a hospital at that. In a busy ICU. Still on orientation (scraping the rust off, as my stellar preceptor says) and just a couple days into it, I have my first poem. It's an updated view on the thrills and chills of Kaexalate therapy. I don't know what stinks worse; the treatment, or my rhyming.

Kaexalate, Revisited

Kaexalate is rarely
Shared upon a date,
Kaexalate commonly
Will seal your fate.

Kaexalate, is best taken
Like a shot of nasty medicine,
Make reservations with a restroom
Your shit will soon jettison.

You can always tell your visitors
That your afternoon will be busy,
You can say you're writing a thesis
On the lyrics of Thin Lizzy,
They may look at you strangely
But probably won't query,
The very idea of that endeavor
To the novice, sounds scary.

Kaexalate is best taken
Shaken, or even stirred,
The smoother it goes down
The more slippery the turd,
It's better than Ex-lax
Or cod liver oil,
It eliminates work
And fertilizes soil.

The user will discover
The need for ventilation,
Because Kaexalate promotes
Rapid evacuation,
Of the immediate area
Of all personnel,
A Kaexalate dump
Carries a frightening smell.

And finally, heed my warning
It's best taken in the morning;
'Cause if you wait till lunch
Or afternoon,
You'll be on the toilet
With the rising moon.

Fibril_late;
2/20/08

Monday, February 04, 2008

Getting old; some people feel as though every year brings about the loss of another freedom. One of the most difficult to let go, is the freedom to drive a car.

Old Driver Blues

When I do my shopping
I drive into town,
The people in the streets
Look at me and frown,
The other drivers are terrible
They get in my way,
Why, the streets were much safer
Back in my day.

I've been driving
For something like 70 years,
Now it makes me so nervous
Unless I've had a few beers,
Because everyone else
Drives so gosh darn fast,
Like they're racing to the future
While I dwell in the past.

These new-fangled cars
Have so many dang buttons,
I think the kids of today
Are technological gluttons,
And by the time I have learned
What all of them are,
Ten years have gone by
And I need a new car.

I know some day I'll have to
Get someone else to drive,
But I swear to you now
Not while I'm alive,
I'm an independent man
And I'll have no drivin' slave,
I'll be behind the wheel
Till they drop me in my grave.

Fibril_late;
1997
Now that Obesity has been declared an epidemic, I guess I can cast all caution to the wind, and spell it like I see it.

Fat and Shortening

Something needs to be written
But dare I be the one to do it,
There's a backlash in society
For those who like to chew it,
There are over-eaters clubs
And natural shape coaches,
Big and husky clothing shops
And a hundred other approaches,
To address the significant fact
That many of us are overweight,
But if you don't do something about it
You're making a heart attack date.

There are a hundred easy reasons
Why we add the extra fat,
To insulate insecurity
Ninety-nine more than that,
But whatever your excuse
You better look it in the eye,
Twenty percent over your ideal body weight
And you're shortening your time to die.

In these days of over-sensitivity
Politically correcting any sort of verbal affront,
You can barely talk about the human condition
Without becoming the victim of a witch hunt,
Just look at the language we have formulated
To talk about what we are thinking,
Weight challenged with adolescent appetites
While the ground under us is sinking.

Now I know, I'll be attacked for my stance
An inflammatory response is just around the bend,
My teeth are crooked and my hair is falling out
But I don't think it will kill me in the end,
I'm thinking I ought to throw this away
But obesity is fat and we know it,
It's one of those challenges that stands right out
If you're as big as a house, you will show it.

I agree that all of the media hype
About biceps, abs and buns,
May cause the hopeless fatty's to commit suicide
Or seek murder, mayhem and guns,
But it isn't OK to condone it
In the context of feelings and disposition,
There are far reaching medical consequences
For the rampant, obesity condition.

Geneticists spearhead a campaign
To discover the causative gene,
That triggers the body to fill fat cells
It will be a lucrative, capitalist scheme,
The pharmaceuticals will jump into the foray
Bulging bank account sharks that they are,
To charge you an arm and a leg, sir
So you can fit into your car,
But if it's a magical pill that you want
The future can't guarantee that,
It comes back to good health habits and will power
The secrets, to not getting fat.

Fibril_late;
1997