The Drug Lord
June 2001 by Elsha Burns © all rights reserved

Doctor Antony Slitherington-Tan
Contemporary medicine man
Will with silver-tongued speech
Sleek, and quick as a leech
Sucks out every dollar he can.

"Good morning, dear Mrs Carter-Brown
Sit here, let me ease your worried frown
Come unburden all of your glooms and dooms
As you grace my plush and prestigious rooms
I'm the slickest new-age quack in town."

A pain you say? Voltaren's the way
To relieve your every ache in this day
Now take a few daily, for months, on and on
Come back for more, won't you; this isn't a con
Just paving the way for some ulcers one day.

This year to my credit (my records please edit)
I've created percentage wise
New Prozac recruits - twenty ; I'd say that's plenty,
Voltaren folk - forty; A bit much, so naughty
Warfarin - just ten, with the stroke of a pen
For the old folks who've made it past forty.

"Oh dear Doctor Tan, please help if you can
I come in great anticipation
I've laboured so oft, teeth-marked door aloft
Won't you relieve my constipation?"

Though figs, licorice, spinach, rhubarb and bran
Even prunes would do, to name just a few
At no great cost, yes afford it you can
But we have just the perfect pill for you.

Anyone for the 'flu? One injection will do
To spread this great money spinner around
Take it back to your work, where undoubted 'twill lurk
In the air-conditioning battle ground.

Then antibiotics will cure the neurotics
Of sniffles and coughs and drips
Just bed and rest would by far be the best
But wouldn't make doctors and pharmacists tips.

I'm Doctor Antony Slitherington-Tan
Slippery as movement just after the bran
I'm a legal professional addict maker
Not to mention a well-polished dollar raker
My bank balance grows to the plan.