Russian Roulette with Chemicals

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Venison pie last night, head inflamed
slow suffocation, I’ll sign admission
of guilt, it should not have been the
main dish of the meal - on top of
Sunday’s chocolate mousse and
ice-cream liqueur, three-cheese
jalapenos sauce

My intolerant system in revolt, we are
going out for a work lunch, all revolves
around food, playing Russian roulette
with chemicals and seasoning; lost all
decision-making capacity, no motivation
to carry on, only my pride keeps me
upright - I delight in

Being in the trenches, fighting incoming
mountains of work with my colleagues
but my contribution is inferior in quality
I’m ruled by my fluctuating emotions
which succumb to every meal, losing
time today, no concentration for any
repetitive job

Too ill to seek consolation in epiphany
no discovery or mystery can stop me
from falling into serious indigestion
and allergy, only the words in my
head are left, the chem that
bubbles in an attempt
at expression

Of my strange malady…
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