One time, while entering a subway train,
There was a passenger who would repeat
What he believed as we all took a seat:
When Coca-Cola really had cocaine
Was when America was truly sane.
Chanting this slogan, crazy and complete,
He proselytized, like nothing could compete
With what his message then was making plain.
His troubles I’m not fit to diagnose
Yet can’t imagine doing otherwise.
I was no help to him, however close,
And you might think I’m only cracking wise
To say his sermon had some merit, but
The lithium was in the 7-Up.
Robert Donohue's poetry has appeared in Apocalypse Confidential, Pulsebeat, and The Road Not Taken, among others. He lives on Long Island, NY.
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