Like certain strange, bewild’ring tax code rules,
Euphoria has two bases—inside
And outside. The inside source is tough; pools
Of fierce emotion eddy, whirl, and vie—
Sure, nourishment from mother’s teat comes first,
Deftly replaced by school-tooled self-esteem.
Then blooming sex (exotic blossom) bursts,
Rich scents define euphoria’s extreme.
But sex, self-love, success wear thin in time,
While pyrotechnic hate enflames us all,
While holy armies—certain and sublime—
Along with greed, reduce us all to thralls.
Outside joy’s dependable: inside johns,
The fridge, faucets, switches, and snug duvets
Taken for granted! Water, light, and warmth—
Sufficient euphorical array.
(10/23/10)