The missing six

Take the pain killers that make drowsy instantly,

Three times a day with food, every six hours.

What about the missing six?

A compromise?
A midnight last supper, and take three,
All at once.

What? You "like" my midnite poetry?
Part of a plan?

Mmmmm.

How about this?

I get myself addicted to them.
Pills,
Instead of poetry?

How do you like them pills now, baby?
Each one a poem, dying,
By the handful, by the mouthful...

The pain makes me esoteric.
1:42am NYC