Prescriptions

This line seems to last longer than the DMV these days. My left leg starts to take a nap while the the right steadies my swaying body. Counting every moment, then recounting it over I can see where the lines ends. From around the shoulders of the large family on my bow, the clerk sits patiently as an elderly lady foils through her large purse trying to locate a method of payment. Finally, she pulls a wallet from the wreckage and hands the clerk some currency. Exchanging with the lady a small transparent bronze bottle.These pills, sustain our urges, anchor our thoughts, choke down with water. Take two every four hours. Take with food.
After 53 minutes I'm next in line. I over hear the father of the family mention a peptic ulcer. The clerk returns from searching the shelves behind the counter, returns with a small white bag. Exchange pills for profit.

As my leg starts to awaken at the thought of leaving soon, I gradually hobble towards the counter. Grasping the counter top as I approach. I Tell the same clerk that Dr. Marshall's office should have faxed over a prescription for congenital heart disease, something I apparently was blessed to be brought into this life with. I have taken the same pills for the past 40 years.
"Here we are" he says returning to the register. "That will be $47.06" goddamn ridiculous I say to myself, they've raised the price again. I take my change and receipt and walk away as best as I can while my leg starts to pump blood again. Back at the front of the store I pass through the automatic doors into the partly cloudy skies. Into my car, i pull off the cap, take 2 washed down with pepto bismal.

I am falling apart. "These pills.." the doctors say, "these pills keep you alive." When I've felt so alone and dead for the years that have left wrinkles on my face,whitened this hair, outdated this life, whats left to keep striving towards? The struggle I face to pry open my eyes every cold winters morning, and to keep them open through every hot summers dusk, leaves me tired. Keep moving, keep the yard clean, keep the house in decent shape. My kids haven't been around in years, this house will be theirs soon. A girl and a boy 15 months apart living states away. The phone almost feels nonexistent anymore, except on holidays I get two calls.. My left leg brings me back to the moment. Its starting to ache.

Sitting in the parking lot staring into this bottle, little white pills. Two more tossed in the back of my throat, the pain subsides. We create diseases, a dime a dozen, same symptoms, same pills, same result. You'll feel better for their falsehoods. They'll tell you what you want to hear "you're sick, I will fax over a prescription to the pharmacy." Human defects out weigh the amount of people roaming this planet. It keeps us in check, keeps us shuddering.

The pain comes back stronger this time as I flick my wrist to start the car. Its working its way up my left side. A crushing ache raising into my arm, the weight a of a truck now sits on my chest. My hand loses its grip on the steering wheel. Heaving, my eyes start to close for the last time in the pharmacy parking lot, car running.

My kids will get the house.