Wheeled Seducer
Oh, Scooter, savior of
my leg joints.
The bearer of my weight.
Reducer of pain.
You carry me,
three-wheeled chariot,
as a knight on his steed.
My sword cane,
my concealed lance.
From my vehicle to a place of sustenance.
grocery store, or restaurant.
To places of examination.
Modern alchemists.
Modern soothsayers.
Analyzing the "humors,"
with scientific precision.
Oh, Scooter.
Slyly, you enslave me.
As I rise, my legs
flare with pain.
Like withdrawal from addiction,
my brain craves that
which relieves misery.
Oh, to stay on your padded seat.
My geriatric throne.
The addiction waxes stronger.
Being without you,
increases my hunger.
Finally, I cease to be mobile,
on my own.
My medical condition,
from sedentary living,
takes its toll.
And my organs silently whisper, "Nevermore."
Soon the wheels that carry me,
are in a procession to a place,
where I will need you, never again.
Copyright ©
Kieran Pavlick
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