Italian shoes, expensive suit,
the Rep has lunch with my GP.
His handshake cordial, pearly teeth,
bronze name tag, says 'CONSULTANT'.
The lavish meal is hard to beat,
as money is no object.
The education here consists
of planning how to rob them.
'They ALL are sick', says the consultant.
'Our job is to convince each one.
If there is one without prescription
we've failed to help our fellow man.'
'So, let me share some good advice:
If someone is so healthy
that all our tests and Latin words
cannot convince completely,
it is our duty to explain
that gray hair, also wrinkles,
and slowing down, the signs of age
are really illnesses to treat.
And please permit my emphasis
on life itself which does need treatment,
so that from cradle to the grave,
our income has its guarantee.'
The waitress now had placed a basket
of oven-fresh Sicilian scones
in front of them, next to a plate
containing squarish little pats.
A taste test proved it margarine.
They sent it back and ordered butter,
while laughing loudly, both of them.
'To think that we'd eat sucker food,
that makes you ill and shortens life! '
'Well, never mind, 'twas good intent,
our education has worked well.'
And they discussed this MARGARINE,
how people died a few years early,
but could be made, after their death,
to pay a final payment:
'When margarine is liquified,
injected into lifeless veins
it rivals old formaldehyde.
We call it ENDLESS though, and charge
one thousand times its going price.'
Herbert Nehrlich
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-pharma-rep/
