I know where every bathroom is
in every Lowes, Sunoco, Shop Rite and Pizza Hut
in a thirty mile radius
from my recliner.

I know my daily dose of Tamsulosin
is not always effective
and that the typical rumbling timpani
of an expanding fart-to-be
may be
the prelude to a more
solid symphony.

I know that what happened
back when I was fifteen.
(sometimes ignited by the sway
of a passing summer skirt
or
merely an unconscious synapse
in my testosterone bathed brain),
so often –
as to be ignored,

is now an

EVENT!!!,

a gift from those giggling gods
standing erect
in the Olympus grandstands

that never,

regardless of the mechanism,

ought to go unrequited!

I know that not every
twinge or wince or stumble
is the stop sign
on my life’s journey to buy
a six inch bolt
at True Value Hardware.

But one

might

be,

never-the-less,

the blinking yellow caution light
at the next intersection
down the road a bit,
warning
that this days ordinary chore

just may be

the last.