A packet of poems arrives in the box

I read them throughout a wasted day

during which, at one point in my paralysis,

I wonder about medication  

medication I know to be a crock

based on false tests,

creating as much misery as it purports to cure

enriching powerful

multi-billion dollar snake oil operations.

In the poems a worldview  

Amazing, really, since the poet is a kid  

I find myself writing in the guy’s cadence  

what next, that MacArthur I’ve been banking on?