Two Sacred Things by RG Gardner

My body makes the 
best drugs under stress. 
I'm familiar with the
oh-shit-we're-sliding-into-the-embankment 
driving stress drug, 
and won't even mention 
the goddamn-the-data-shows-my-theory-is-correct drug.
pas de quoi 
dreck 
Life presses and my 
endocrine glands 
rise to action.
Flick a dozen genes on 
and crank like hell 
bucket loads hit my forebrain 
and splash like 
the inaugural bottle of champagne.

Best was today. 
I've been saving up, apparently. 
Today I sat in a small room
and played a Fender bass for hours. 
up frets
down frets
octaves 
long, bottomless notes 
held out to the last of my 
tidal air runs
jazz, minor keys, chords
with me was a rapt beauty, 

fascinated by the tones and attentive
when the tuning meter strayed.

I brought one lady home and can't stop thinking about the other.

Coming down can be the hardest thing.

photo credit: "lapolab" via photopin cc