That’s the Last Norco There Is
by Richard King Perkins II

How am I going to get my Norco tonight?
I can’t walk.
I don’t want to take Tylenol.

I want my Norco.
I’m supposed to get it in the morning
and in the night.

They won’t let me see my ledger.
Why do I have to be treated like a criminal?

Who’s going to give me my Norco?
I need to go to the hospital
but I don’t have anybody to take me.

What am I supposed to do, walk?
They give me no help anyway.

I need to go to the Mayo Clinic.

The doctor told me to go back to my room.

He walked in and walked out.
He did nothing.

All they did was give me a blood draw.
I don’t want a pain shot.
I want my Norco.

I’m dying of oestrogen poisoning.
Doctors don’t know anything about oestrogen.

I fired all my doctors.
I’ll call the police if they ever come near me again.

I’ve been butchered here for months
and criminalised.

I can’t see the doctor. I can’t get rid of my pain.
I can’t see my ledger. I can’t walk.
I guess all I can do is die.
I knew the outcome before I ever got here.

The head x-ray didn’t show anything.
Why do they keep taking x-rays of my head?

That’s the last Norco there is.
I’m going to die tonight. Period. That’s it.