by Paul Burgess […a poem on the tendency to treat symptoms rather can causes and to escape pain rather than deal with it]
One day while walking through the nearby hills,
I came across a lady selling pills.
She said to take her tablets twice a day,
And troubles would all start to melt away.
The pills provided such a soaring high
That I returned to buy a new supply.
But where she’d been I heard no human sound,
And nothing of that lady was there found.
Along with waves of troubles flooding back,
I count among my woes those pills I lack.
[The 1st in a series of clerihews and clerihew-inspired quatrains about figures from nursery rhymes, folk tales, legends, and myths. I will call these poems “clerihew-inspired quatrains” when no lines end with the subject’s name.]
Though kindly looked Old Mother Goose,
Her morals were extremely loose.
She robbed some banks and used the cash
To build upon her cocaine stash.