hot stones on my back

where am I, 

I ask myself

as i lie down on the massage table

at Kim's Steam

and Massage

Parlor

next to the bowling alley,

adjacent to the airport

and Big Jim's bar and grille

beaming out its sign

to the interstate,

Liver and Onions night,

but where am i exactly

in this life?

is this it?

is this the end of the road,

or is there more?

so tight,

the massage therapist

says,

as she jumps up

and down with her little

feet

on my back.

relax, relax. she says,

you so intense.

i got you.

maybe hot stones?