they are taking the piss
a hospital day in boring pain
on my way to the spinal tap
they paywalled tour de france
doffed and donned by a duo
of up-duffed doctors
two days in the hospital
and i’m walking like a train wreck survivor
it was only my neck that hurt yesterday
a new diagnosis,
coital migraines…
i’m done with western medicine, man.
and that was how i met fah.
weirdly, i find myself writing this on 15 december 2025, the day ron reiner, who directed the spinal tap movie, was murdered. and for some reason trump has weighed in. what a miserable world we live in. but it is at least better for containing the great works of ron reiner.
entertainment. it’s there with food and shelter as one of the core essentials of life. even without food and shelter, one will seek entertainment.
this poem however is about some mysterious migraines i’d been having. i actually went to the doctor about my sore neck. i mentioned the headaches and before i knew it i was in hospital undergoing a gruelling litany of tests. on leaving the hospital, i noted that despite my two days in hospital, the neck pain i’d presented at the doctor’s with was if anything, significantly worse.
i complained to my barber, and she recommended a massage therapist called fah. i’m not going to claim she works miracles, but i did go on a cycling holiday to the canary islands like a week later.
the love epochal. n.n. benn 