When I was young, I had strategies
to cope with stress and distress.
I would play myself out on the piano,
walk myself out on the beach or hills.
When I had to find another way
of escaping myself, I turned to reading.
Now that's gone, stress and distress
fester in my head like maggots.
Only once in a while, a blow-fly
is released to buzz
irritatingly across the room.