Today’s poem

TABMAN COMETH

(Apologies to Flanders and swann) ’Twas on the Monday morning I had a nasty fall, I stumbled on the staircase And I landed in the hall. The doctor said: ‘There’s nothing broke, But you’ll stiffen up all right,’ And gave me ibuprofen To get me through the night. Oh, i tall makes work for the pharmacist to do. Now on the Tuesday morning I had a tummy ache, They kept me waiting on the line Four hours for goodness sake. They said it was a side-effect From the pills I’d swallowed down, But proton pump inhibitors Would turn it all around. Oh, i tall makes work for the pharmacist to do. On the Wednesday morning I had to make a dash To the doctor’s incognito To hide a scary rash. They diagnosed infection And gave me anti-bs, But I must have been allergic ’Cos they put me on my knees. Oh, i tall makes work for the pharmacist to do. By the Thursday morning I’m struggling with a wheeze, They gave me an inhaler To put me at my ease. It opened up my airways, It seemed the very thing, But come the Thursday evening And my moods began to swing. Oh, i tall makes work for the pharmacist to do. Now it’s Friday morning, I really am distressed. They gave me some diazepam So I could get some rest. I feel just like a lab rat What with all the pills I’ve popped, And I wondered where I’d find myself The next time the music stopped. Oh, i tall makes work for the pharmacist to do. On Saturday and Sunday I didn’t come round at all, And Monday I was so drowsy That I had a nasty fall . . .

G. Bell, eastleigh, Hants.