On my way to work in the morning not really seeing the traffic I chew on my sourdough toast try not to get any peanut butter in my teeth as I think of all the reasons why it wont work
why i’m not capable
why it won’t work
the simple act of moving one foot in front of the other
I talk to an old man who smells of aftershave, helps little ladies sell their stock. He’s a stock broker. he’s going through chemo.
He says its annoying really, finding the time for everything, every day. time for the chemo. time to see the eye doctor. time to work on Saturdays and Sundays.
He’s so excited, he says, to get his computer glasses. it feels like a big accomplishment, a big check off his list.
I smile at his relief, the kind I give him.
I smile at his aftershave. It reminds me of Grandpa, down in southern California.
I want to tell this man that, but instead I settle for a second handshake, and tell myself its a hug.
On my way home from work in the evening I eat a stale strawberry poptart. It costs me nothing but my tastebuds. I think about, as I begin to pump my brakes, that sometimes i forget how to operate a motor vehicle.
I forget how to have sex. I forget how to unlocks doors, and lock them again. I forget but then I remember,
that I am not capable
none of this will work
tell me, is there a chemo for what I have, too?