Self-Medication (Day III)

Posted on August 29, 2014


So. It is a beautiful conjunction with numerous applications, just like ‘ehn’. So- tell us your story. So- continue. So- get to the point. So- let me bore you with a story. So: the one word question. So: dismissive role. So, we are supposed to talk about chickens and that deputy governor who got the boot for attempting to turn the exalted government house to a Chicken Republic. In this era of animal borne diseases like SARS, Ebola, Malaria etcetera, it should be a crime for anyone to keep dangerous animals like chickens around. Especially in a government palace. See, you can’t go around endangering the life of our honourable governor and expect the protective state assembly not to stop you. That’s why the state assembly is there in the first place, to adjudicate over chicken issue. Well.

So, you are writer who works with a genre that has negligible dollar conversion rate, if you are serious about being able to afford their menu at Chicken Republic, what do you do? Prescription. Prescribe for yourself. Self-medicate. So? You change genre- oh, brilliant! That’s why we are here. I’m self-medicating, to save myself from the penury which poetry promises, and position myself for the wealth only prose can assure. Let’s be honest, poetry has become what you do on the side.

Why? Oh that? Tomorrow. Be here early.

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