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We’ve been meeting since his PSA spiked and he decided on surgery. Radiation finished, nerves nicked by the robot...
We’ve been meeting since his PSA
spiked and he decided on surgery.
Radiation finished, nerves nicked
by the robot, he’s had no luck with
Viagra. Yet he’s happy to be alive,
competing with twenty-somethings
while he signs up for Medicare,
his birthday Ducati the last bike
he expects to own. And since he’s
back in the saddle and ready
to take his new monster out
for a maiden voyage, we’ve agreed
today will be our last meeting.
He’ll give me a call when he
turns down my quiet street,
tells me I should listen for the roar
because the only thing I’ll see
will be his brief flash of light.