Here are five poems I wrote in honor of modern medicine:
A day that fever lays you ill;
a plague of pests too small to see;
a mold compressed into a pill;
'tis death for them but not for thee.
From searing slash of surgery
from dental pang of drilling teeth
from woman's birthing agony
the Numbing Needle grants relief.
May plague and sickness pass you by;
be free of fever and infection;
be long to live and late to die;
for the Bovine Needle provides protection.
The Bovine Needle prevents disease;
expires a fire more dire than war;
your body's on guard, your mind's at ease;
yet the Porcelain Throne saves even more.
The Porcelain Throne! O hole-some seat!
O honest chair approached in haste!
For public health, relief, retreat;
all other thrones, compared, are waste!