Off (With) The Top Of My Head

What’s stuck inside my head wants out.
It’s dark and damp in there, no doubt,
But best, I think, to seal it tightly
Just in case it’s, well, unsightly.
Two acetaminophin
To make the pain retreat again
And then perhaps the thought of thinking
Won’t feel like day-after drinking,
And this thing inside my head
Might sleep. Or I could weep instead.
I’ll any remedy endorse
That helps this headache run its course.


Folk Remedy

Sometimes headaches happen. When
Acetaminophen won’t cut it,
Stuff a tub of aspirin in
The gapespace in your face and shut it
Carefully. N.B. Don’t swallow:
That could make your belly swell
Or even kill you, which is hollow
Victory when you’re unwell.

Rather, hold the bitter mawfull
Till you’ve counted up to fifty
And then spit it out. Tastes awful,
But the brief distraction’s nifty.


The demon squeezed behind my eye
Seems peevish, though I don’t know why.
I try to be a gracious host
And think of deviled eggs and toast
(‘Cause demons feast on thoughts we think)
But he won’t eat, and I can’t blink.
Cans’t thou be gentle, demon? Then
Will three acetaminophen
Attenuate thy appetite?
Oh, no, you have to go? Alright.

You Know, Cabs Go To Carnegie Hall

If music be the food of love, play on,
But if you’re just rehearsing, please, I pray,
Just take a break or choose another song.
Eight choruses is plenty for one day.
It’s not that I’m a music hater, au
Contraire, I think musicians are the best!
But practicing the same twelve bars, like so–
Da-DAA-da-DAA-dee-DUM… give it a rest.
My head is pounding and my earbones ache
From repetitions echoing inside
So, please, pack up your instrument, or make
Me long to see the day the music died.
I promise, on your concert day, I’ll come.
Until that time, I’m begging you: Play dumb!