Wednesday, October 21, 2009

MEDICINE

MY HILLS OF PILLS CURE ALL MY ILLS.
THEY CHILL THE WILL AND KILL THE THRILL.
I DOWN THE SWILL OF MY OWN FREEWILL,
UNTIL A REFILL RESTARTS THE DRILL.

1 comment:

  1. You're making me ill with your overkill
    And still you quill-out grist for the mill.

    ReplyDelete