There should be a season
where you can purchase a license
to hunt people using leaf blowers,
but not if the workers are undocumented non-citizens.

I think my headache requires some quiet.

I know something close to quiet
arrives when the sun goes down,
but relief for the invisible drill penetrating my cerebellum
is sorely lacking under the general din the world creates
going about its business to earn its daily bread.

The bells tolling between my ears, behind my eyes,
attempt to summon Mars down from the heavens
and declare war on the fabric of our gravity well
as illustrated in Einstein’s graphical drawings.

I require a gesture. Poor you! or ice cream or mercy killing.

I am not sure which would be better at the moment.
This dizzying blindness makes it impossible
to locate any of the bottled pain relievers
in the medicine cabinet.

Just think, up until nineteen-fourteen
heroin was sold over the counter as a cough suppressant.

copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney


Wikipedia entry on Heroin, scroll down to History for more developmental information.

Happily, I have not had a blinding migraine in since 2003. They are awful buggers when they hit. The only treatment I ever found that worked on my migraines was sleep.