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POEM: Call The Doctor

Call The Doctor

Better living through chemistry:
the hit of dopamine that comes
when you discover the nearest
Indian restaurant is still in business.
Tom Baker is looking at me
with a jaundiced eye
from his perch above my keyboard.
Back off, Tommy boy,
you and your oversized scarf.
We can’t all be living
the high life in 70s London.
Some of us have to work for a living.

/ / /

14 April 2022
Pittsfield MA

(NaPoWriMo Day 14)

Published in Food My poems NaPoWriMo2022 Poetry

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