for sixteen years or so. But therapy
has been doing me no good as  
far as I know. I’ve taken many a shrink
to the board. And many have bored me. I’ve regressed

no less, down to the size of a baby. I’m just as
neurotic and psychotic as I ever was. I’ve turned to
the bottle because it’s predictable, unlike the professionals
that I see. One I had *** with, the other was a coward who sang

Sinatra for me on his piano out of key. One had such arrogance
he ended the two-year treatment in a dear john email because
I told him that he needed help. His fragile ego
couldn’t take the advice from someone like myself.