Every evening
for 30 minutes
I sit in a silent
pit feeling pain

I recall women
I have hurt
jobs I have lost
bullies sensing

weakness (school-
yard workplace
he doesn’t care)
& left hard marks

I am to feel fear
of failing family 
recoiling as but 
a kept man can

I buckle beneath
a handmade load
of tarnished talents
calcified careers

But he stressed
I am under strict
orders not to do
a thing about it

This is my Rx
a single dose
of unfiltered
tastless time  

Soon I will sit
in his office 
peeling apart 
its side effects 

Does the drug
free to poem
(my new unpaid
career he calls it)

or does it fill 
a not-so-far-off
grave with dirt
& mental relics

So I am to give
my pain a room
of its own then
leave it alone