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Conor McKeon

An Oderall

by Conor McKeon on

‘Tis 9 AM
Eastern Time
A somber Tuesday morn’

A paper due
5 pages long
“How Democracy Was Born”

Mind is blank
An empty space
Devoid of inspiration

Eyelids heavy
Pillow soft
I lack all motivation

Oh pills of orange
In the bottom drawer
Underneath my magazines

I’m wide awake!
A miracle?
No, dextroamphetamines!

My focus now
Is quite intense
complete lack of saliva

Things unrelated
They now make sense
A modern day mental MacGyver

The paper, well
It writes itself
45 minutes tops

Prescription? no
Why do you ask?
Dude, you didn’t say your dad’s a cop.

“Who is representing you
Against the State?”
If you must know, Your Honor, I am

Am I pre-law? No
Then how did I win?
Simple, 35 Milligrams!


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Conor McKeon

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