Poem: Perfect

I have learned that
Order Eater Shoe Insoles
are a good thing for me.

Too much sun brings out
open sores of Shingles
on the right side of my face.

My breath
while sleeping
comes out as
a soft rattling wheeze.

In warmth
sheets of sweat
pour from my skin.

The common fungus
on my chest and neck
looks like
red splashes of acid.

The pain in my
spine and legs
is being controlled by
powerful narcotics
which leave me
dizzy.

A piece of tooth
recently broke off
from my
constant
stressful
Grinding.

My new black pillowcase
tells me that
my dandruff
is getting worse.

The yellow phlegm
from my
smoker's cough
is as steady
as ever.

It's possible
the new
anti-depressant
I'm on
is working.

My heroin habit
has slowed
to a crawl.

And to my surprise
I come to find
I'm Perfect.