New Disease

A night, I dreamed of a sickness, Rash.

How little I know about chemistry, and I mean people chemistry, like you and me.

All I know of Rash is that people want it.

It gives people big red maps, bodywide, except for the face.

But it feels so good.

The medicine fixes your problem, but burns out the pleasure, for the rest of the life.

Painful solution. (Isn't solution a funny word? It's a liquid and a cure?)

Left with a choice.

Is that what my dreams are? Anxieties of choice?