Absent concupiscence no longer grieves me not

cause I practiced abstinence
(when absolute zero hedonistic desire)
abstemiously sublimating any
twitching dormant hormonal secretions
toward crafting poetry or prose
including an exceptional
double entendre bon mot
one of which usually interpreted
as risqué or indecent.

Now welcome to my prevaricated life,
where once libido took a kamikaze nosedive
courtesy the side effects of
one or more of
my nine prescription medications
taken for social anxiety
(once near debilitating panic attacks
which found me on the verge
to fight or take flight,
which latter I did
while a student circa 1985
at Kutztown University,
and drove my 1967 Chevy Malibu
(a chick magnet)
with Mag wheels to the nearest airport
rather than the nunnery
called the "Convent Sisters of Perpetual Motion,"
but made a quick about face
and boarded the next airplane
to unknown surprising destination,
not necessarily feeling rushed
even though traveling at light speed
against the tide of time,
which aforementioned mid ninety eighties
an educated guess
at present countless earth orbits ago
and ended up by dint of impulsive reaction
as a miller within Tropic of Cancer
where I chronicled mine fictitious existence
as a starving writer living bohemian,
often bawdy life in 1930s Paris),
where actually the bonafide following
mental health diagnosis prevailed
but little did I then know
body dysmorphia, dysthymia,
obsessive compulsive disorder,
and palmar hyperhidrosis
all told impeded healthy functioning,
which would be eradicated
in one fell orgasmic swoop
when I reached the closest place
to Shangri-la one could get
as served as an immediate balm
after landing when flying enroute
where the pilot promised
landing in a paradise island
would serve as an immediate palliative
despite openly acknowledging
lack of sexual drive,
nevertheless there could be a happy ending
and near certitude
I would probably go berserk
think barenaked ladies
or a similar facsimile thereof
upon arriving at fantasy island
rectifying serving as
potential curative and panacea
to affect remedy where
libidinal longings did not work
unlike the salad days of me youth
which bothersome popularity sought
significantly cranking embellished
outrageous feats of daring do
with a once upon a time
measly male member
(the size of a small toy rocket)
one paramour from yesteryear
found beautiful said schmeckle
(derived from Yiddish shmekl)
a slang term for a penis,
often used in a diminutive
or affectionate way to mean "little penis"
helped stoked performance sucks esse,
when fully primed,
and ready to release payload
into the webbed, wide world
where I did Gather ye rosebuds while ye may"
the opening line
of the 17th-century poem
"To the Virgins,
to Make Much of Time"
by Robert Herrick
and a palpable yearning arose
to facilitate once again
strawberry fields of dreams
in need of conceding and reseeding
(then healthy horny as a rhino)
and soon I would discover visa vis
more than a surprising
high knee jerk reaction
as series of events
would rank as pleasant perk
by that I mean yours truly
as an esteemed latitudinarian,
nonestablishmentarian, proletarian,
solitudinarian and Unitarian
soon after I felt
warmly welcomed as a guest of honor
within the island named Grand Turk
the largest island in the Turks Islands
a British Overseas Territory—
and serves as the administrative,
historic, and financial center
of the Turks and Caicos Islands,
housing the capital, Cockburn Town,
where yours truly
as an up and coming author,
who became posthumously famous
granted exemption to work,
thus this bonafide cocksure
Dickensian elicited frank
glib honest ipso facto
joyful bliss surrendering existence
as a Hare Krishna devotee
(dressed in traditional Indian Vedic clothing,
emphasizing modesty, simplicity,
and spiritual devotion,
using natural fabrics like cotton or silk)
where men typically wore dhotis
(lower garments) and kurtas (tops),
while women wore saris or salwar kameez,
often adorned with tilak (clay markings)
on the forehead
to signify their dedication to Krishna
the perfect tonic found
many moments of undistracted solitude
especially now when penning my Bildungsroman.