Self-medication is the course for me
to lever out of this reverse plateau
of dismal mood, abysmal density,
of slogging in an attitude so low
or lonely I don’t even know what’s worse:
a dearth of all excitement, silent, skewed;
or company, which often means the curse
of thought and shattering of solitude.

Oh there were decades when I turned to weed,
or sought narcotic tablets from my friends,
or chased with Scotch and sex the little death
that fixes lulls and rage. Today I need
to self-prescribe a cure that comprehends
the benefits of exercise and breath.