reclamation project

endorphins are supposed to improve your mood,

are supposed to make you feel good about your chances

despite the data,

despite the history of your family

or the history of the team that you root for

but mine’s are M-I-A, have gone AWOL

i exercise diligently every other night

(muscle failure is supposed to induce, introduce them)

& my feel-good endorphins are nowhere to be seen:

no sign of the occasional cheap high that i was

or have been secretly concocting  

for whatever the reason,

my body, now fitter or healthier than before,

has willy-nilly closed up shop & stopped its production:

deciding on its own

that i’m no longer in need of a mood stabilizer

i don’t have a picture to show for  (not that endorphins

are photogenic by any stretch of the imagination)

but have no fear:

they aren’t in danger &, what’s more important,

aren’t a danger to you or society

if there’s anyone at risk, it’s me

for those in need or with nothing better to do,

i offer a small reward

(another grey goose or another consolation prize

in the eyes of the heart, of the 99%)

for information leading to their arrest

  

c. a. campos, 2011