Pressure rarely leads to the best possible work.
At least, that’s what my psychic said to me
last time I had an evening reading
(morning readings are less practical, I’ve found).
I’m supposed to cut out the carbohydrates
and soak in a pool for at least three hours a day,
preferably deprived of all sensory stimuli.
If I can squeeze it in, I’ve also been urged
to adopt any stray animals I come across–
even tame-looking wild ones, if I can.
No matter what animal I start taking care of,
they must be fed a regimented diet
of broccoli, cottage cheese and morel mushrooms.
I’ve been promised that if I take all those steps,
I’ll be cool as a cucumber in no time, also
several steps closer to that thing we call God.

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