They slip down my throat,
One by one,
A chaser of water or tea.
Following the esophageal path to my system,
My brain and body
hopelessly await big changes
with each oblong or circular
dose of professed natural magic.
But that one pill that isn’t smooth,
Is cut into two.
It chokes me
Brings tears to my eyes
And makes my heart skip a beat or two until
3 swigs of water get it down.
Why can’t they just coat the damn thing?