Bad Medicine
My hands are stained black,
The leavings of outdated vitamins
Cold treatments and pain killers
Dissolved now in water,
Mixed with coffee grounds to make this slurry
Unpalatable to innocent animals,
Ziploced and placed in the trash--
One way to keep them from our water supply.
A colorful candy bowl of white, blue, pink, and red
Becomes a fluffy pink ambrosia.
What is it in this odd confection
That turns skin black within its creases and
The deadened skin around my nails?
Iron? Magnesium? Chromium picolinate?
Bismuth tablets? Immodium? Or Tums?
Vitamins A through Zinc?
Like pottery glaze in odd reverse, it goes on pretty
But leaves behind a dark and lifeless stain.
What else of sweet-looking beauty have I handled
That leaves me darkened and stained?
Have I embraced them, also, to keep harm from others?
Or have I merely been drawn in and burned
By selfish desires and the ache of the wish
To possess the lovely at the expense of scarring
A selfish and shallow soul?
Chris Kmotorka
1/12/2011
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