at my knee. i rub it,
i twist the leg
around,
straighten it out,
flex,
and fold it
back
with my foot on the ground.
i wonder how many
more years
i can get out
of it
after fifty years of
pounding
on basketball courts,
and running around.
i'd like to leave this
earth
with all my
original parts,
i tell the doctor,
which makes him smile
and say,
it's good to have a goal
like that.
then he pushes the needle
of cortisone
all the way in,
the lidocaine making me howl.
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