my knees
raising the chair, to gently
touch
the front and back, he says
with a laugh,
welcome to jiffy lube
in his bulgarian accent.
he's dressed in a nice blue
set of pajamas.
periwinkle, i do believe,
and wearing the customary
mask.
he shows me a miniature
progression of knee
deterioration, made of balsa
wood and plastic. he tells me
which stage i am at.
the final stage being a shiny
piece of metal holding it
altogether.
then the needle goes in.
straight through the front,
not quite to the back.
i feel the swish of cortisone
going in.
i ask him if i'll be able to
swing dance tonight with my
buttercup, and he says,
sure. do what you want.
see you again in six
months, putting a sticker
on my forehead as a reminder.
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