Medicine

It’s hard to feel fat with the harvest while you are in chains. But not even they can stop you from getting your medicine, or wanting it.

We are not supposed to assemble. How can we enjoy good company then? Not without some medicine.

We are tired, so tired our teeth feel it. Sleep is no cure, though, for a lack of sleep. A bandage, perhaps, but not the medicine.

That’s the irony of this season. It’s usually meant to make you feel more of the where-and-when about yourself.

But what’s a cup of coffee to a dying man?