Finished, a poem

Finished

You have been diagnosed with Yesterday’s Disease

not Today’s, for which we have promising new therapies

not Tomorrow’s, which we are currently studying in a petri dish in an underground, sealed laboratory

but Yesterday’s, the one with quality pharmaceuticals (inexpensive, since the patents expired decades ago)

Yesterday’s Disease exists outside of time. Centuries old, it both narrows and widens the patient’s perception of hours.

It affects families, but everything does. Even weather.

No, there are no articles you can read. Yesterday’s Disease is passé. No title would generate enough clicks.

Quality of life is generally good, until it isn’t. There is no practical way to prepare. I suggest

you go outside, fire up the grill, put on some kabobs—You do have skewers, don’t you?

Open a bottle of wine and pour two glasses—one for you, one for someone else. Someone

who won’t ask you anything about Yesterday or Disease.

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