December 01, 2002
I try to make him an ordinary patient
with a list of drugs and diagnoses
strung together in a necklace
of initials: CAD, CABG, DM2,
I pretend I am nothing like him,
a man my age, a doctor with a beard
who lives on a street I drive every
who worked the same hospital
before his life became abbreviated.
Week after week he jokes
we should go next door for
and bring our guitars to play
the Beatles songs we know by heart.
And though he calls me his best
it's different for me. I never cross the line.
I just give him the best I have
and he gets what he pays for.
Yeah, I'm the most expensive friend
money can buy.