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Saga of the Problem-Drinker DUII Program Graduate
A Recovery Saga

(Hypertexted, Linked and Duded Up)

by Mark Worden



I've learned to relax and meditate
systematically, 
and daily biofeedback
improves my alpha EEG.

I've primaled and gestalted
laid all my feelings bare, 
my diet is meticulous: 
Pfeiffer analyzed my hair.

I've been rolfed and RET'd, 
transcended behavior mod, 
got it with Werner Erhard, 
became born again with God.

I jog an hour every dawn, 
walk briskly every noon, 
I hit the wall at 15 miles, 
but I'll marathon it soon.

I used to come down regularly
with Monday morning flu. 
Now at work I'm all efficiency 
with drive enough for two.

Weaned from polyester
I'm into cotton and blue jeans,
and I order all my hiking gear 
direct from L.L. Bean's.

I've been into scientology 
and now I'm known as clear. 
It makes me wonder what I sought
in Mad Dog, scotch and beer.

From the study of astrology 
I know what birthsigns say; 
and I memorize the old Big Book 
and attend my old AA.

I've been therapized and counseled 
by friends of Carl and Fritz, 
and relived several previous lives
via licensed hypnotists.

My liver's shrunk to half its size, 
my eyes are bright and clear. 
I've cut way down on coffee, 
lost that ancient, nameless fear.

All I used to read was TV Guide 
and labels on cheap red wine;
now I speed-read Elmore Leonard,
and peruse the Sunday Times.

I find Hawking's theories meaningful, 
but prefer sage Carl Sagan, 
and take delight in the recondite
Drs. Szaz and Herman Kahn.

Quarks and quasars interest me, 
as do the firmament's displays, 
but I am perplexed and sorely vexed 
by great black holes in space.

I hand-till organic veggies, 
grow calluses on my hands,
and listen to Willie and Waylon sing
with country western bands.

There's a Nikon in my future 
with a telescopic lens 
to take artful shots on Skid Road 
of the has- and never-beens.

In therapy and growth groups 
I confronted the whole damn crew.
Intimidation didn't faze me: 
I grew and grew and grew.

Behaviorally I've made progress, 
achieved quantifiable goals. 
But Rev. Williams down at the Mission
still worries about my soul.

Financially I am solvent. 
I've put my roots down like an oak. 
For I now abstain from alcohol 
and never, never smoke.

Now I've got my driver's license back 
I think I've paid my dues. 
So I thank my P.O. and my judge,
and I thank my Antabuse.

But migod! Since I've sobered up 
and rearranged my life, 
it will take two squads of counselors
to rearrange my wife!



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Lemme see the plain, good old unadorned, unlinked, none of that pretentious hypertext stuff :: Conventional Saga