Lemsip

Of all the cold-and-flu-relief citrus-flavoured powdered drinks, only Lemsip would need spokesperson Reckitt Benckiser (who exists) to declare: ‘It is fair to say that it doesn’t cause poetry in most people.’
Lemsip is scientific, not versificatory. Science with a capital ‘Science’. Even the blackcurrant ones. The heavyweight nature of the bestselling concoction is reflected in its various sub-brand names: Lemsip Fist, Agent Lemon and the all-new Lemsip Bird Flu Fuck You. I’m scared of it, and I’m not even the sniffles.

Oh, hang on, it’s just some crushed-up paracetamol that tastes a bit lemony. It perks you up slightly, but then so do most things that contain caffeine.

What you need to make your own ‘Lemsip’:
• Paracetamol
• Hot water
• Packet of Refreshers

Nevertheless, Lemsip can be extremely dangerous, intoxicating and even addictive, as Poet Laureate Andrew Motion has found. The poet told the Daily Telegraph he ‘uses’ the potent drug every day to help him write. It gives him the sensation of having ‘a mild illness’, which is good for the fine poetics, apparently. ‘I’ve been doing it for years and it’s become habitual,’ he said. Every day, he chases the lemon. ‘It’s my Lemsip-inspired trance, and I can only say thank heavens it’s not laudanum or absinthe,’ said Motion. Indeed. If only Pete Doherty had kept to Lemsip. He might then have been able to speak in sentences and write lines that scan, such as the finely honed stanzas of Motion masterworks ‘She Will Rock You’ and ‘The Prince Has Got a New Hat’.

Here is Motion’s poem ‘I Wonder if the Queen Does
Lemsip?’

I wonder if the Queen does Lemsip?
She’s good, mind
The Queen
I like her
A lot
Beechers’ Brook?
I’ll say.
Would you?
I would.
(But then I’m fucked up on Lemsip.)

© A Motion (Hur hur, it says ‘a motion’. His name’s ‘a motion’.)