Where do aging poets go to die? For Geoff Peterson the answer's simple: the old Richford Hotel, warehouse of the destitute & deranged in Erie, Pa. where the author has gone to write his memoir and make a last stand by tossing his heart medication to meet the unleashed carnal demands of Margot, mistress of film noir. Journalist Jane Anderson calls "Dark Is My Therapy" a vivid portrait of human frailty at the advance of old age: poor even in wealth, sickly even in health, wrinkled but unbowed--till death do you part.