Knees

Pursuing springtime walking sprees beside our dog, beneath the trees, I oft detected some unease amongst the birds and buzzing bees as echoed by flat monodies of clicking, clacking, knocking knees (forsooth, reversed parentheses) resounding pained discordant keys, confusing triplets’ twos and threes as if the tunes were meant to tease with awkward stilted harmonies. I asked a doc with med degrees if he could, somehow, kindly, please, suggest intensive therapies that maybe might perhaps just ease strange syncopations such as these (you know, those eerie melodies that echo from my noisy knees) before my family finally flees. At last my doctor said “oh geez, this is the worst of maladies, so I’ll replace those knobby knees (they look like half moons made of cheese) with stainless steel or manganese or other metals such as these as used in all such surgeries. I’m sure the outcome won’t displease (you’ll stand on legs, isosceles) although there are no guarantees”. Now that I’m fixed, I stretch and squeeze with exercise my coach decrees to aid me flex my new born knees; and should I suffer agonies he soothes the strains with frozen peas or cubes of ice that make me freeze and says “I hope my expertise has helped to heal your injuries and if you must, feel free to sneeze”. With chiseled legs on racing skis, I now can sail as does a breeze o’er nearby alpine apogees (and view those sites that no one sees, alive in eagles reveries) and when in Vail, win jamborees upon my new non-knocking knees.