Repeat Prescriptions

I can't pronounce 'repeat prscrptions':
open my mouth to expel it, half the
vowels slop to the floor. Lie there,
curling like clippings of old toenail.

Consonants are bloody squaddies,
close ranks, bunch up, rub shoulders:
half a chance, they hobble the gob,
clog it with sticky spittle.

Solution! invent the phrase 'repeat',
repeat 'repeat' ten times, practising
in the mirror. I ring the clinic:
'Habble you gobble a REPEAT?'

Back to the drawling board, take vowels
off to one side, give them the drill,
discipline, exercise their ingenuity,
line up five (y has sloped off again).

The fray. Present oneself at surgery,
urgent to out the shuddering vowels.
How may I help you, sir? Er,
'Could I have a...a...' (I write it).

Slump home, picking my consonants
('How'd you like to be an ex-plosive?'),
crack my teeth on them. The vowels
melt in my mouth like marshmallow.

They have lost their grip, fixative,
need serious medication, or superglue.
Underdogs. I will have to help them.
Have to get them rpt prscrptions.

From the book Robinson Crusoe's Bank Holiday Monday